Chapter 4: Under Hospital Lights
The ambulance’s red lights vanished around the corner, but Matteo stayed at the curb for one more breath, listening to the night settle around him.
Then he went to his car.
He followed at a distance, careful not to crowd the ambulance or make the driver think he was trying to interfere. Its lights flashed ahead through Boston’s dark streets, painting brick walls and shuttered storefronts in brief, restless color. At every red light, Matteo’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
He had no right to ask the ambulance crew to hurry. No right to demand details about a patient he wasn’t related to. No right, in fact, to anything at all.
He knew that.
Knowing didn’t make the wait easier.
At the hospital, the ambulance swept beneath the emergency entrance canopy. Matteo parked where he could find a space, left the car, and walked inside. The automatic doors opened onto a wash of fluorescent light, disinfectant, and noise: a phone ringing, wheels squeaking across tile, someone crying behind a curtain.
The ambulance crew had already brought Emma and her mother through a set of doors marked for staff only.
Matteo stopped at the desk.
“I’m looking for the child who came in with the ambulance,” he said. “Emma. Her mother was brought here too.”
The receptionist looked up at him, then at the two men who had followed him inside. They had stayed several feet back, as Matteo had told them, but their suits and stillness drew attention anyway.
“Are you family?”
“No.”
The answer seemed to change the air between them.
“Then I can’t give you information about either patient.”
“I understand.”
“You can wait in the public area. If the patient or her legal guardian wants to speak with you, someone can let you know.”
Matteo nodded. He didn’t argue. The receptionist pointed him toward a row of plastic chairs.
He chose one where he could see the entrance to the treatment area and sat down. His men remained standing until he looked at them.
“Go outside.”
“Boss—”
“Now.”
They went. Matteo stayed beneath the harsh lights, his coat still on, his hands resting open on his knees.
A few minutes passed. Or twenty. The hospital gave no sign that time meant anything here. People came and went through the doors. A child with a bandaged forehead leaned against his father’s side. A nurse pushed an empty wheelchair down the hall. Somewhere beyond the doors, a monitor beeped in a steady rhythm.
Matteo tried not to count the seconds between sounds.
A woman in scrubs came out and glanced down at a clipboard. “Mr. Ricci?”
He stood.
“Yes.”
“I’m one of the nurses who helped receive Emma. She’s with the pediatric team now. We’re keeping her with a staff member while they assess her and make sure she’s physically okay.”
“Is she hurt?”
“I can’t give you details beyond what I’m authorized to share. She was frightened, and she’s had a very difficult night. She’s safe here.”
Safe here. The words helped, though Matteo knew they weren’t a guarantee against every fear Emma carried through the doors.
“Does she know I’m here?” he asked.
“I can tell her you’re waiting. I can’t promise she’ll want to see you.”
“Tell her only if she asks.”
The nurse studied him for a moment. “All right.”
She disappeared through the doors.
Matteo lowered himself back into the chair. He had wanted to make things easier for Emma. Instead, he was another unfamiliar adult in a suit, another man whose presence might feel like a demand. He could offer to stay. He couldn’t make her trust him.
When a staff member returned a while later, Emma was with her.
The girl looked smaller beneath the hospital lights than she had at the house. A blanket covered her shoulders. Someone had given her a cup of water, and both hands wrapped around it as if she needed the warmth more than the drink. Her face was pale, her eyes swollen from crying.
She spotted Matteo and stopped.
He didn’t move toward her.
“Hi, Emma,” he said.
She stared at him, then at the empty space around him. “Did you come by yourself?”
“My men are outside. They won’t come in unless you want them to.”
“Do you have to leave?”
The question was so small that it took him a moment to answer. He could have said no. He could have given her the certainty she wanted.
Instead, he chose the truth.
“I don’t have to leave right now,” he said. “But I can’t promise what happens later. I can promise I won’t sneak away without telling you.”
Emma held the cup tighter. Her eyes flicked toward the doors to the treatment area.
“If they say I can’t stay,” she whispered, “will you go?”
“If they tell me to go, I’ll listen. I won’t make things harder for you.”
“Will you disappear?”
“No. Not without telling you.”
She seemed to turn the answer over in her mind. Then she nodded once, not quite reassured but willing to accept it for now.
A nurse explained that Emma would remain with them while her mother was assessed. Matteo didn’t ask Emma to come sit by him. He didn’t ask her to recount what had happened. He stayed where he was as she was guided to another part of the department, letting her decide whether to look back.
She did once.
He lifted a hand, palm open.
Emma turned away and followed the nurse.
A uniformed officer arrived not long after. Matteo recognized him from the house. The officer introduced himself to the receptionist and came over with a small notebook.
“Mr. Ricci. I need to get your account of what happened tonight.”
“All right.”
The officer glanced at the chairs. “Somewhere we can speak privately?”
“Here is fine.”
The officer looked toward the waiting families, then back at Matteo. “You called 911?”
“I did. Emma sent me the address and said her mother was being hurt. I gave the dispatcher what she told me. They instructed me to stay outside.”
“And you did?”
“Yes.”
The officer’s pen paused. “The scene report says you intervened when the suspect attacked one of our officers.”
“He had a knife. The officer was in front of him. I stopped him, then let the police take custody.”
“Why were you there?”
“Emma texted me by mistake. She needed help.”
The officer’s gaze lingered on him. The name Ricci had arrived before Matteo did; he could see that in the careful distance the man kept.
“People might find that difficult to believe,” the officer said.
“They can check the call.”
“I will.”
“I’m not asking you to believe anything that isn’t in the record.”
The officer wrote something down. “We may need a fuller statement later. There are questions about how you knew the address and how you got there.”
“I understand.”
The officer’s expression stayed guarded. “The suspect made a threat at the scene.”
“I heard him.”
“Do you intend to contact him?”
“No.”
It was the first answer of the night that Matteo could give without any qualification.
The officer watched him as though deciding whether to write that down too. “If you hear anything about the victim or the child being threatened, call us. Don’t handle it yourself.”
Matteo thought of the man’s laugh as the patrol car door shut. He thought of the threat he had made with Emma standing close enough to hear it.
“I won’t interfere with your case,” he said.
“Good.” The officer closed his notebook. “Someone will follow up with you.”
He left without offering reassurance.
Matteo sat alone again.
A clinician finally came through the doors and approached him. Matteo rose so quickly that the nurse beside the desk looked up.
“Her mother is alive,” the clinician said. “She’s receiving care and will need continued medical attention. I can’t discuss her condition beyond that.”
Matteo breathed out. Beside him, the nurse gave a small nod, as if she understood that he had been holding his breath for longer than he realized.
“What about Emma?” he asked.
“She’s being cared for. The best thing you can do is let our team work with her and respect whatever boundaries she sets.”
“I will.”
The clinician turned to go, but another staff member stepped through the doors before he could. She came straight toward Matteo, her face serious and her voice low.
“Mr. Ricci?”
“Yes.”
“Emma’s mother is awake.”
For the first time since he had entered the hospital, Matteo felt his body lean toward an answer.
May you like
The staff member didn’t soften the next words.
“She knows you’re here,” she said. “She refuses to see you.”
