Chapter 4 - The House on Maple Terrace
The red and blue emergency lights were already painting the dripping pine trees when I skidded to a halt at the curb of 412 Maple Terrace.
It was an old, rambling Victorian farmhouse that had seen better decades. The gutters were sagging, the front porch steps were patched with raw plywood, and the yard was overgrown with wild blackberry brambles.
An ambulance sat in the driveway, its diesel engine rumbling in the wet night. Two paramedics were wheeling a stretcher down the ramp.
On the stretcher was Nora.
She had an oxygen mask strapped over her face, a thick white bandage taped across her right temple, and an IV bag swinging from a pole hooked to the gurney. Her eyes were half-open, glazed with concussion.
“Nora!” I scrambled out of the truck, taking the porch stairs two at a time.
A police officer blocked my path with a heavy arm. “Hold on, sir. Who are you?”
“I’m a family friend—I’m Cole Daniels. The little girl called me.”
From inside the screened porch, a small bundle of navy-blue blankets exploded through the door.
“Cole!”
Lily hit my knees like a cannonball. She was shaking so violently that her teeth were clicking together. Her cheeks were pale gray, her lips had a faint bluish tinge, and her chest was heaving with terrifying, shallow gasps. She wasn’t wearing shoes—only thick woolen socks soaked with freezing water and mud.
I dropped to my knees in the wet grass, wrapping both arms around her, pulling her inside my heavy wool coat.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered into her damp hair, my hand pressing against her back, feeling the desperate flutter of her lungs. “I’ve got you, Lily. You did good. You did so good.”
“She wouldn’t answer me,” Lily sobbed into my collar, her fingers digging into my shoulders with frantic strength. “There was blood on the wood. I thought she died like Dad.”
“She’s alive. Look at me, Lily.” I gently pulled her back, taking her small face between my warm palms. “She has a concussion and a cut on her forehead. The paramedics are taking care of her. She’s breathing. She’s going to be okay.”
The second paramedic, a tall woman with her hair in a tight braid, jogged over with a pediatric nebulizer in hand. “Are you the father?”
“No,” I said immediately. “I’m her mentor from Pine Ridge. Her emergency contact.”
The paramedic glanced at Lily’s retractions—the skin between her ribs pulling inward with every breath. “She’s in severe respiratory distress. We need to administer albuterol now, and she needs to be evaluated at Cedar Falls General. Can you ride with her in the back of the rig?”
“Yes,” I said without a second of hesitation.
“No!” a shrill voice cut through the rain.
A silver Mercedes roared up onto the curb, its wheels churning through Nora’s lawn, spraying wet turf across the driveway.
Evelyn Vance emerged like a hurricane, holding an umbrella like a broadsword.
“Get your hands off my granddaughter!” Evelyn screamed, charging across the grass. “Officer, arrest that man! He is not family! He has no legal right to touch that child!”
The police officer turned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Ma’am, calm down—”
“I am her grandmother!” Evelyn shoved past the officer, her eyes wild, her face contorted with hysterical rage. She reached down to yank Lily out of my arms. “Come here, Lily. Come to Gran right now.”
Lily screamed. It wasn't a normal tantrum scream; it was a shriek of visceral terror. She dug her fingers deeper into my jacket, burying her face into my chest, her entire body rigid with panic.
“No! No! I want Cole! Mom said Cole would keep me safe!”
The words silenced the entire lawn.
Even the rain seemed to quiet down for a second.
Evelyn froze, her hand hovering in the damp air, her face draining of color.
“What did you say?” Evelyn whispered.
Lily didn't answer. She couldn't. Her airways clamped shut, her gasp cutting off into a silent, choking spasm.
“She’s cyanotic,” the paramedic barked, shoving Evelyn aside without ceremony. “We’re moving. Sir, get in the ambulance. Now!”
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I lifted Lily into my arms—she weighed almost nothing, like a bundle of hollow bird bones—and leapt into the back of the ambulance. The doors slammed shut, cutting off the sight of Evelyn Vance standing in the freezing rain, her umbrella discarded, staring at the closed metal doors like she had just seen the end of the world.
***
