Page 50 of The Forever Game

“Fire is on the way. They’ve been delayed by another call out but should be there in five minutes.”

I slip my radio back onto my belt, then bend down to try and get the boy’s attention. “Hey, buddy!” I tap on the glass, swiping rain off my face. “Can you hear me?”

He stops screaming for a second, poking his head around the edge of his car seat so he can get a better look at me.

“Hi.” I wave my hand, smiling and wondering how distorted I must look through the splintered glass. “I know you’re scared,” I call to him. “But we’re going to get you out of there, okay? I’m a police officer, and I’m here to help you.”

His big brown eyes gape at me for a long beat, and then he starts wailing again. His poor little sister hasn’t stopped, and I feel helpless as I stand here waiting for support.

The ambulance arrives, the paramedics running to do their jobs, and thank God the fire crew turns up only moments later.

Dan and I work crowd control, two other units arriving to support us while I anxiously wait for those kids to be freed from the wreckage.

Dan’s questioning witnesses, and I should be, too, but I’ve just heard the deafening sound of screeching metal. I run back to the car, ready to grab those kids as soon as they come out.

The firefighter pulls the baby seat out, and I rest it in the crook of my elbow, then scoop the little boy into my arms as soon as he’s clear of the vehicle. Walking them through the driving rain to the squad car, I open the back door and get them inside.

The poor little girl has screamed herself back to sleep and is now whimpering, her little chest heaving as her brother climbs over my lap and stares down at her.

“Is this your little sister?”

Tears splash out of his eyes as he nods.

“She’s safe now,” I assure him.

The boy glances at me.

“What’s her name?”

He stares at me for a long, slow beat before finally whispering, “Lucia.”

“That’s a pretty name.” I smile, running my hand down his back. “And what’s your name?”

“Carlos.” He has a mild accent, so I decide to greet him in Spanish.

“Hola, Carlos.”

His head snaps around to face me, his eyes wide. I give him a soft smile and start speaking to him in Spanish.

I find out that he’s three.

And that his favorite color is blue.

It takes me about twenty minutes to get that much. He keeps looking out the window and staring at the crumpled car. I don’t want him to see his parents’ mangled bodies, so I distract him with my flashlight, keeping his face turned away as they’re pulled from the wreckage and covered with white sheets.

My stomach knots into a hard ball when Carlos starts crying again. A whimper bubbles out of his throat, and then the tears fall in earnest all over again. He flops against my chest, and I cradle his head, singing a Spanish lullaby and trying to calm him.

The rain eases to a gentle whisper, running down the glass as I stare at the heartbreaking scene and wait for the paramedics to come check on the children. Child services will no doubt meet us at the hospital and get these kids someplace safe for the night.

I hope they have grandparents or aunts and uncles nearby who can take them in.

These two precious kids have just lost their parents in one fell swoop.

How can life be so monumentally unfair?

CHAPTER18

ETHAN

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