The officer’s call pulled me from the chair, the fragmented plastic falling to the ground with a soft clatter. I glanced at Emily, lying so still among the tubes and wires, then back at the officer. My heart pounded in my chest, matching the rhythm of the rain outside.

“Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, thick with grief and anger.

“There’s been an incident,” was all he offered. His jaw was set, eyes not meeting mine, but there was something in his tone, a gravity that compelled me to follow him, leaving Emily behind.

The drive to Old Oak Road and Highway 9 felt surreal. Memories of Emily flooded my mind—her first steps, her laughter, the way her eyes would light up when she spoke of her dreams. And now she lay broken, silent… because of the very people who vowed to love her.

As I approached the bus stop, the scene was chaotic. Police cars lined the road, their lights painting the night in eerie shades of red and blue. A small crowd had gathered, their faces pale and shocked, murmuring among themselves.

“What happened?” I demanded as I got out, scanning the crowd for answers.

The officer led me through the throng to where a group of paramedics was gathered, their expressions a mix of urgency and resignation. My heart sank when I saw what they were huddled around—a body, covered hastily with a tarp, shoes sticking out from underneath.

It was Brad.

His body lay crumpled on the pavement, half-buried in the mud where Emily had been. Even in death, his face held an expression of surprise, as if he couldn’t comprehend how this had come to pass.

“The car came out of nowhere,” a witness was saying, her voice trembling. “Swerved right off the road… didn’t even slow down.”

An officer approached me, his demeanor solemn. “We believe it might have been a hit-and-run. The driver hasn’t been identified yet.”

I felt a strange detachment, a numbness creeping in. Justice, in some twisted form, had been meted out. But there was no satisfaction in it. Only emptiness.

“And Mrs. Gable?” I asked, my voice hollow.

“She’s been taken in for questioning,” the officer replied, his gaze steady. “There will be an investigation into your daughter’s assault.”

I nodded, but my mind was elsewhere. The rain had picked up again, soaking through my clothes as I stood there. I thought of Emily, fighting for a breath she might never take on her own again. And about how, in a single night, lives had been shattered beyond repair.

As I turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of a silver necklace, half-buried in the mud near Brad’s body. It was Emily’s. A piece of her, left behind in the chaos. I picked it up, holding it tight in my palm.

Back in the hospital, I sat by Emily’s side once more. Her hand was still cold, still lifeless. “I’m here, sweetheart,” I whispered, clutching the necklace like a lifeline. “I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever.”

As the rain drummed against the window, I prayed for the impossible. That somehow, amidst the darkness, Emily would find her way back to the light.