Chapter 3 - Christine arrives
Christine reached the hospital forty minutes later.
She was thirty-six.
My wife of eleven years.
Jake’s mother.
Dark-blonde hair.
Gray sweater.
No makeup.
She looked like she had been crying.
A police officer stopped her outside the pediatric ward.
Not because she had been arrested.
Because hospital staff had requested separation until initial statements were taken.
I saw her through the security doors.
She saw me.
“Nathan.”
I stayed where I was.
“Nathan, please.”
I walked over.
Officer Ryan Cole stepped slightly between us.
Christine said:
“You need to hear what happened.”
I answered:
“I heard Jake.”
Her face collapsed.
“What did he say?”
“That Brian held his arms.”
Christine closed her eyes.
“Scott held his legs.”
She started shaking.
“And your father hurt him.”
Her lips moved.
Nothing came out.
Then I said:
“And he said you didn’t stop them.”
She covered her mouth.
That reaction confused me.
Not denial.
Not outrage.
Recognition.
I asked:
“Was Jake wrong?”
The officer interrupted.
“Mr. Hale.”
Right.
Not here.
Not interrogation by husband in hospital corridor.
Christine whispered:
“I froze.”
That was the first direct admission.
One word.
Not enough.
But not nothing.
Then she said:
“They said he needed to calm down.”
My hands curled.
Officer Cole looked at me.
I opened them.
“What does that mean?”
Christine started crying.
“My dad thought Jake stole something.”
“What?”
She shook her head.
“You need to let the police—”
“What did they think he stole?”
“Nathan.”
“Christine.”
The officer stepped between us.
“That’s enough.”
May you like
Good.
Because I was about to stop being useful.
