Chapter 8 - The Price of Ruin
"Ryan! You ungrateful bastard!" Marla screamed from the floor, her cheek pressed hard against the dirty tile, Nora's silk robe twisting around her legs. "I carried you for nine months! I gave you life! You're going to rot in hell for putting your own mother in chains! You hear me?! Rot in hell!"
"You didn't give me a life, Marla," I said, looking down at her with a dead, unblinking stare. "You gave me thirty years of debt, guilt, and misery. And tonight, you almost killed my daughter."
Miller hauled Paige to her feet. The arrogant smirk she had worn for years was completely gone, replaced by a splotchy, tear-stained face filled with absolute panic.
"Ryan, please," Paige sobbed, her voice cracking as the reality of steel cuffs sinking into her wrists finally hit her. "Please, don't do this. I have a criminal record from that shoplifting charge in college... If I get a felony on my record, I’ll go to state prison! You're my big brother! You promised Dad on his deathbed that you would take care of us!"
"Dad died twenty years ago, Paige," I replied, my voice slicing through her panic like a razor blade. "And you just tried to kill my child. As far as I'm concerned, you're not my sister. You're just a criminal who broke into my house."
Miller picked up the blue envelope from the floor, along with Nora’s stolen jewelry box and my social security card from the kitchen counter. He sealed them into clear plastic evidence bags.
"Deputy Brooks, escort the suspects down to the transport cruisers," Miller ordered.
He then turned to Tessa and Brooke, who were trembling violently against the wall, clutching each other like terrified children.
"You two have exactly fifteen minutes to throw your clothes into trash bags and get off this private property," Miller told them in a booming, no-nonsense voice. "If I come back upstairs and see either of you on this street, I will book you both for criminal trespassing and complicity in grand larceny. Do you understand me?"
"Where are we supposed to go?!" Brooke wailed, tears streaming down her face. "We don't have our own cars! We don't have any money!"
"Start walking," I said simply.
Ten minutes later, the apartment was dead silent.
The flashing red and blue lights faded down the street, taking my screaming mother and sister away into the night. Tessa and Brooke had dragged two garbage bags of clothes into the rain, crying as they walked toward the distant bus stop.
I stood alone in the center of the wrecked apartment. Slashed cushions, shattered glass, spilled soda, and ruined baby clothes lay all around me.
Suddenly, the heavy silence was shattered by the shrill ring of my cell phone.
I pulled it from my pocket. The screen flashed: ST. JUDE'S REGIONAL HOSPITAL - DR. PATEL.
May you like
My thumb hit the answer button with a shaking hand. "Dr. Patel?! Is Nora okay?!"
"Ryan, you need to get back to the hospital right this second," Dr. Patel’s frantic voice cut through the line, accompanied by the terrifying sound of continuous medical sirens in the background. "Nora suffered a catastrophic uterine rupture three minutes ago. We are losing both of their heartbeats. We're rushing her into Emergency Trauma Surgery right now!"
