Chapter 5
The nurse's shoes squeaked on the floor when Andrea stood up.
I didn't let go of my rabbit. My hands were sweating inside his fur. Andrea was talking fast but quiet to the man by the door. Deputy Harris had come in and he smelled like coffee and his radio kept crackling. Andrea said she had to authorize a welfare check. She said Mommy hadn't been seen since yesterday afternoon and that made it legal to go inside our apartment. She kept saying my name and Sarah Jensen like she was checking boxes out loud.
Marcus was still kneeling by my bed. His vest creaked when he moved. He didn't look at the deputy. He looked at me.
"You stay with Nurse Patel," he said. His voice was low. "You don't open that rabbit. You don't give that key to nobody but me or Andrea. You hear me, Lily?"
I nodded. My throat hurt. I whispered, "What if the bad man comes here?"
Nurse Patel stepped forward then. She had dark hair pulled back and pink scrubs and a badge that said Patel, RN. She put her hand real light on the bed rail, not on me.
"Security is right outside your door, sweetheart," she said. "Nobody comes in without your nurse. I'll be right here the whole time. Do you want to keep the TV on?"
I shook my head. I held my rabbit tighter against my chest. His pink nose was pressed into my hospital gown. I could feel the little hard bump of the key inside his pocket where Mommy had sewed it. Marcus had put it back after we found it.
Andrea crouched down so her face was even with mine. Her gold necklace swung forward.
"We're going to go check your home real quick," she said. "Just to see if Mommy left a note. Just to make sure she's okay. Nurse Patel will stay. Deputy Harris will have an officer at the hall door. We'll be back before you know it. Okay?"
I didn't want her to go. I didn't want Marcus to go either. But I nodded again because Mommy told me to tell someone what she hid, and they couldn't do that from my room.
Deputy Harris checked his watch. "2:18," he said. "We roll now, we make entry by 2:30. Maintain radio contact with hospital security."
Marcus stood up slowly. His knees popped. He looked at me one more time and his scarred hand squeezed the bed rail.
"Breath slow," he said to me. "We got you."
Then they left. The door clicked. The hallway light cut across the floor and then it was gone.
Nurse Patel pulled the chair close to my bed. She didn't try to take my rabbit. She just sat where Marcus had been. She poured water from a plastic pitcher and asked if I wanted ice. I said no. The monitor behind my bed beeped every few seconds. I stared at the dark window. The parking lot lights were orange outside. Every time the door handle moved I sat up, but it was just nurses walking past.
I didn't see the highway. Marcus told me later what it looked like and I kept picturing it while I waited.
He said the highway was empty at 2:24 in the morning. Andrea drove her county car and he followed on his bike, then he got in with her at the hospital lot because she had the authorization papers. The road was black and wet from earlier rain. The gas station on Route 9 was closed, just the yellow lights buzzing over the pumps. No other cars. Andrea kept her radio low and Deputy Harris's voice came through saying he was two minutes out, meeting them at the Pine Grove Apartments. Marcus said his hands kept flexing on his knees the whole drive. He kept thinking about my mom's apartment door and that it would still be locked.
Pine Grove was dark when they pulled in. That's where we live, building C, second floor. Marcus said the lot had those tall pole lights but one was busted so the corner by our stairs was shadowed. No lights on in our windows. Our door was that faded green color. From the parking lot they could see our kitchen window. Andrea used her flashlight and held it up.
I knew what she saw because I've seen our kitchen a hundred times. But that night the chairs were pushed out. Mommy's yellow coffee mug was still on the counter. The curtain above the sink was crooked like someone had grabbed it fast. Marcus said it didn't look ransacked, it looked like someone left in a hurry and didn't turn anything off.
The hallway smelled like old carpet and rain. Deputy Harris met them at the breezeway. He had his flashlight too but not his gun out. Andrea showed him the paper on her clipboard and her ID and my name on the hospital bracelet copy. She said, "We have a minor child in protective custody, mother missing and possibly endangered, consent via child's possession of key and exigent welfare check." Her voice was shaking a little on the last part.
Deputy Harris knocked. Loud. Three times.
"Sarah Jensen? Sheriff's department. Welfare check. Anyone inside?"
No answer. No footsteps. Just the hum of the apartment AC unit next door.
He knocked again, harder. "Sheriff's department, open up!"
Nothing moved behind our green door. The peephole was dark.
Marcus leaned close to the door and listened. He said he could hear our fridge buzzing and nothing else. Andrea looked at the lock, then at the key in the little plastic evidence bag Marcus had. She nodded to Deputy Harris.
Deputy Harris checked his watch and spoke into his shoulder radio. "2:30, initiating welfare check entry at Pine Grove C-4, authorized by CPS caseworker Andrea Ellis. Forced entry not needed, key present from resident minor."
He looked at Marcus. Marcus looked at Andrea.
Andrea took a breath and said, "Okay. We go in now."
May you like
Nurse Patel must have seen my face change because I sat up when the clock over my hospital door flipped to 2:30. The red numbers buzzed. I squeezed my rabbit and whispered, "Mommy, please be there."
But the door to my hospital room stayed closed, and far across town, our apartment door was about to open.
