Page 144 of The Fractured

I ditched the flower and ran to my car. Every thought evaporated from my head, and my stomach twisted. “No-no-no—”

Police sirens sounded as the cop car sped by. Lily climbed into the Cadillac as I did. She didn’t speak, instead she hastily shoved on her seatbelt while I ripped the gear stick into drive. The flower was on her lap, I guess for evidence later.

I took a shortcut to my house, avoiding more cops as I went way over the speed limit. Lily’s hand was pressed against the dashboard.

I need to get home.

I need to get to Mom.

One more street—

Dragging the steering wheel down, I took a hard left onto my street.

The road was blocked with police tape, cop cars, fire trucks, and an ambulance… There was a cop car across from the house with its windshield completely peppered with bullet holes and the front seats covered in blood. That was the police surveillance Mark promised for my mother.

I stopped the car right behind the police tape and climbed out, unable to see the house beyond one of the fire trucks until I rounded the front of it.

Brick was charred, something in the roof continued to smoulder, and the windows all had the same large, splintered hole in their centers.

Police were stationed everywhere.

I ducked under more tape to get closer, but one of the officers stepped in my way.

“What happened?”I knew what happened.

“Sir, I need you to get back behind the tape.”

I shook my head. “Where is she? Where’s my mom?”

Another officer joined, taking hold of my shoulder. “Sir—”

I shoved at his chest. “Get the fuck off me! Where is she?!”

“Dean.” Her voice was gentle but firm, and sliced through the tension so easily.

I turned around, ignoring the fact that a few more officers had walked over, and found Lily. Her eyes were wet with tears as she grabbed my wrist and began leading me down the sidewalk. I thought she was pulling me away from causing a scene. Instead, she was bringing me to the ambulance as they brought a stretcher to its back doors.

Mom was on it, covered in foil, and blankets, and bandages, and tubes with an oxygen mask over her face.

I reached them, overhearing the tail end of what the paramedics were discussing.

Patient is a paraplegic…. Burns to 80% of the body, including airways.

I couldn’t get to her side. I knew the paramedics were doing their job, but I couldn’t get to her side.

“Sono qui, sono qui, mamma.” I said urgently.

Her eyelids fluttered and barely opened. Ash and blood caked the side of her head, and her hair, usually so black and beautiful, was matted and wet with more blood.

I needed her to know I was there. That she wasn’t alone.

Her eyes found mine as they loaded her into the back of the ambulance.

I went to follow.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have the room,” a paramedic said, placing a gentle hand on my arm. “We need to go.”

I nodded, backing away from the doors as they said something about a hospital, and closed her in.