Jake returned before I could answer.
The scan showed no increased swelling. The doctor said he needed observation, rest, and follow-up care, but the immediate danger had eased.
I sat beside him until he fell asleep again.
At dawn, Christine entered the room.
Her hair was tangled, and she wore the same gray coat she had worn to Jake’s soccer practice. A red mark crossed one cheek as though she had been resting against a rough surface. She stopped when she saw Daniel.
“Who is he?”
“Daniel Reed. We worked together.”
Her eyes moved between us.
“So you called them.”
“There is no them anymore.”
“That’s what Dad said you’d say.”
I stood.
“Where have you been?”
She ignored the question and walked to Jake’s bed. Her hand trembled as she brushed hair from his forehead.
When she saw the bruising clearly, her composure collapsed.
“Oh, baby.”
