Chapter 8 - The Hostage of Time
My husband didn't say a word.
He just kissed my forehead, unclipped his radio, and sprinted out the door.
I was left standing next to my dying daughter and my handcuffed sister.
The doctor was manually bagging Harper, forcing oxygen into her constricting lungs with a plastic mask.
"You have to buy us time," the doctor pleaded, adjusting the IV drip to maximum capacity.
Downstairs, my husband met up with the SWAT team that had just breached the hospital lobby.
They moved silently down the stairwell, stacking up outside the heavy steel doors of the main pharmacy.
Through the reinforced glass window, he could see my mother.
She was casually sitting on a stool, holding a lighter beneath the hospital's emergency sprinkler head.
If she triggered the sprinklers, the chemical suppression system would destroy every unsealed medication in the room.
Including the specific vials Harper desperately needed.
The police negotiator tried to establish contact through the intercom system.
"Margaret, this is the police, you need to step away from the medication."
My mother simply smiled, picking up the glass vial of the counter-agent.
She held it precariously over the hard tile floor.
"I want Lauren released, and I want full immunity," her voice crackled over the speaker.
"If you don't agree right now, this vial shatters."
My husband pushed his way to the front of the tactical team, ignoring protocol.
He pressed his hands against the glass, staring directly into the eyes of the monster who raised me.
"She's your blood, Margaret," he pleaded, his voice breaking.
My mother looked at him with absolutely zero emotion.
"She's a nuisance."
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And with a flick of her wrist, she let the vial slip through her fingers.
The glass shattered against the tile, spilling the lifesaving liquid into the drains.
