Chapter 8 - The Desperate Play
I stared at the phone on the floor, the screen glowing brightly in the dark kitchen.
Every second ticking by was a second of oxygen Lily was losing.
I grabbed the phone with trembling hands and dialed 911.
"911, what is your emergency?"
"My name is Sarah," I sobbed, looking up at Ryan's victorious smirk.
"I'm at 442 Elm Street. I... I attacked my husband. I need to turn myself in."
Ryan nodded approvingly and gestured toward the garage.
"Tell them you're unarmed and waiting in the kitchen," he whispered.
I repeated his words into the phone.
The dispatcher told me officers were on the way and to stay on the line.
"Hang up," Ryan ordered softly.
I ended the call and threw the phone across the room.
"Open the garage!" I screamed, struggling to get to my feet.
Ryan casually pulled the remote from his pocket and pressed the button.
The heavy grinding sound of the garage door opening echoed through the walls.
I didn't wait for him to move; I scrambled past him and bolted for the door leading to the garage.
I threw it open and fell into the stifling, exhaust-filled air.
Claire's car was idling, the garage filling with a deadly white haze.
"Lily!" I coughed, pulling the back door of the car open.
Lily was slumped against the seat, her eyes heavy and her skin pale.
I dragged her out into the fresh night air on the driveway, holding her tight.
Claire stumbled out of the driver's seat, coughing violently and clutching her chest.
"I'm sorry," Claire gasped. "He locked the car doors with a jammer, we couldn't get out."
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second.
I held Lily's face, forcing her to look at me.
"Stay awake, baby, please stay awake," I cried.
She blinked slowly, taking deep breaths of the cold air.
The police cruisers swarmed the cul-de-sac, their spotlights illuminating our driveway.
Four officers jumped out with their weapons drawn.
"Get on the ground!" they shouted at me.
I immediately dropped to my knees, keeping my arms wrapped around Lily.
Ryan burst out of the front door, holding a blood-soaked towel to his cheek.
"Officers, thank God you're here!" he cried out, playing the victim with terrifying perfection.
"She tried to kill me, and then she locked our daughter in the garage to die!"
The officers rushed forward, pulling me away from Lily and forcing my hands behind my back.
The cold steel of handcuffs clamped around my wrists.
"No!" I screamed, struggling against their grip. "He's lying! He did this!"
One of the officers knelt next to Lily, who was finally sitting up.
"It's okay, sweetie," the officer said gently. "Who put you in the car?"
I stopped struggling, waiting for Lily to tell them the truth.
May you like
Lily looked at me, tears streaming down her face, and then looked at Ryan.
"Mommy did," she whispered.
