Chapter 4: The Flight Home
I do not remember packing.
I do not remember checking out of the hotel.
I barely remember the taxi ride to the airport, except for the way my hands shook so hard I could not type properly.
I called 911 from the terminal.
Then I called our neighbor, Mrs. Alvarez, who had loved Hannah from the day we moved in.
“Please,” I said, my voice breaking. “Go to my house. Something is wrong.”
She did not ask questions.
Twenty minutes later, she called me back sobbing.
“Ethan, the ambulance is here.”
My knees nearly gave out in the middle of the airport.
“Is she alive?”
There was a terrible pause.
“They’re working on her. The baby too.”
I gripped the edge of a chair so hard my fingers hurt.
“Where is my mother?”
Mrs. Alvarez’s voice changed.
“Standing in the kitchen telling everyone Hannah is dramatic.”
That was the moment something inside me turned to ice. Continue Reading ⬇️
