CHAPTER 2 — THE PHONE CALL
The match hovered inches above the gasoline-soaked welcome mat.
Rain dripped from the brim of my cap.
My hand trembled.
Then my phone vibrated.
St. Catherine's Hospital.
I answered immediately.
"Mrs. Lawson?"
It was Dr. Reed.
"Your daughter is still alive."
For several seconds I couldn't breathe.
"What?"
"We've stabilized her blood pressure. The baby's heartbeat is weak, but it's still there."
The lit match slipped from my fingers into a puddle, where it died with a hiss.
"Listen carefully," Dr. Reed continued. "Emma regained consciousness for less than thirty seconds."
"What did she say?"
"She kept asking one question."
I gripped the phone tighter.
"'Mom... did you call the police?'"
Tears blurred my vision.
Dr. Reed spoke gently.
"She wasn't asking for revenge."
"She was asking for justice."
I looked at the mansion towering before me.
The gasoline.
The dark windows.
The life I could destroy in one moment.
Then I climbed back into my truck.
The Whitmores didn't deserve a quick ending.
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They deserved to answer for every choice they had made.
I turned the key and drove straight to the police station.
