“She’s dying!”
The officer reached for his radio.
But Patricia spoke first.
“Before you call anyone,” Patricia said calmly, “you should know that I’m the one who called you here.”
Rebecca froze.
The officers exchanged a look.
Sophie’s breathing became a shallow, desperate whistle.
Patricia’s arms remained folded.
And no one moved.
The inhaler was somewhere in that house.
Someone in that room knew exactly where it was.
But they weren’t going to say.
Not until Rebecca did one thing.
The one thing was a signature.
Patricia reached into the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She smoothed it open with two fingers, the way someone might unfold a napkin at a dinner party. She held it out toward Rebecca.
“Sign this,” she said. “Give me temporary custody. And I’ll tell you where the inhaler is.”
The room went still. Even Sophie’s wheezing seemed to pause, as if the air itself was waiting.
Rebecca stared at the paper. Her daughter was turning blue in her arms. The officers were frozen. One of them—Officer Briggs—looked at the floor. The other—Officer Hale—looked at Patricia with an expression Rebecca couldn’t read.
“You’re insane,” Rebecca whispered.
Patricia didn’t blink. “I’m practical. You’ve been unfit for years. You work too much. You forget things. You let Sophie run wild. This is for her own good.”
“She’s dying,” Rebecca said. Her voice cracked. “You’re killing her.”
“I’m teaching her,” Patricia said. “And teaching takes time.”
Sophie’s small hand clutched Rebecca’s shirt. Her lips were the color of a bruise. “Mommy… please…”
Rebecca looked at the paper. Then at the officers. “Please. Just search the house. It’s somewhere. Just find it.”
Officer Briggs finally spoke. “Ma’am, we can’t search without a warrant.”
“She’s a child,” Rebecca screamed. “She’s dying in front of you!”
Officer Hale stepped forward. He was young, maybe twenty-five, with a jaw that hadn’t yet learned to be hard. He looked at Patricia. “Ma’am, where is the inhaler?”
Patricia smiled. It was a small, terrible smile. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
Hale’s hand moved to his radio. Patricia spoke again.
“Before you call anyone, remember who called you here. I did. Because I was worried about my granddaughter. And I was right to be worried. Look at her mother. Hysterical. Screaming. Negligent.”
