My Peace (Beautifully Broken 5)

The minutes have ticked past slowly. Natasha brought me a dinner tray, and it was all I could do to act normally.

Surely, something will happen soon.

Did Roger believe me?

Maybe he misunderstood.

It’s easy to be paranoid when I’m here alone.

Every sound lifts my head.

Every time, it’s nothing.

Every time, I’m crushed.

I pray. I pace. I pray. I pace.

Nothing happens.

I shower, I go to bed.

It’s the middle of the night before I hear something.

Something distant, something in the house.

It’s not a screech, it’s more of a crash.

A loud one.

I lunge from the bed for the first time in days. My legs are weak, and they almost give out, but I make it to the door, and I bang on it, screaming.

Through it, I hear a commotion. Scuffling, yelling, a loud shot. A shot?

Then,

It’s quiet.

Then.

Then.

“M’am, stand away from the door.”

It’s a man’s voice, assertive and loud. I step away, scurrying to the bed, and my door comes splintering in, loudly and forcibly, and the pieces fall onto the floor. Everything next happens in a blur.

People surround me.

Everything is buzzing.

My heart pounds.

There are so many people. Police, EMTs.

“Where is my daughter?” I ask someone. They are taking my blood pressure, taking my vitals, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. My teeth are chattering, and I didn’t even realize it.

“We don’t know yet,” the EMT says. “Don’t worry, m’am.”

“And my husband? What about Pax?” I demand, and my voice is loud, and I might be screaming.