Chapter 2 - THE MEDICAL VERDICT
"Mr. Miller?" the doctor asked, checking the badge hanging from my collar. "I'm Dr. Vance, head of pediatric trauma here at St. David's."
"Yes. How is my nephew? Did he break his leg falling from a window or something?" I demanded, my voice tight with anxiety.
Dr. Vance exhaled slowly, adjusting his glasses. "Mr. Miller, your nephew did not break his leg from a recent fall. The fracture to his left tibia is old. It's approximately three weeks old."
The words hung in the sterile air of the hospital corridor, refusing to register in my brain. "Three... three weeks old?"
"That's correct," Dr. Vance said grimly, leading me toward a consultation room and pulling up the digital X-ray scans on a backlit wall panel. "Not only is the bone fracture three weeks old, but it has begun to heal improperly because it was never set, cast, or treated. Furthermore, looking at the wider skeletal survey, we see multiple hairline fractures in various stages of healing along his ribs, right wrist, and collarbone. This child has been subjected to repeated, systematic physical trauma over a prolonged period."
I stared at the glowing white lines of the X-ray, feeling as though the floor had vanished beneath my feet. Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass.
"He crawled seven blocks," I whispered, the sheer horror of it washing over me. "With a broken, improperly healed leg, he crawled across concrete to drag his three-year-old sister out of a locked basement because she was starving."
"He possesses an incredible survival instinct," Dr. Vance said quietly. "As for Maya, she is severely anemic, suffering from acute caloric deficiency, and covered in bruises that indicate chronic neglect. Child Protective Services has already been notified, and detectives are en route to this hospital right now."
Before I could answer, the door swung open and Detective Sarah Chen of the Austin Police Department walked in. She was a tall, sharp-eyed investigator with a heavy leather notebook in her hand and a look of cold determination on her face.
"Mr. Miller? I'm Detective Chen. I just spoke with the officers who went to your brother's residence on Maplewood Drive."
"What did they find?" I asked, my fists clenching so hard my nails dug into my palms.
"The house was locked up tight," Detective Chen said, flipping open her notebook. "No answer at the front door. But officers heard crying coming from the basement window well. They forced entry. They found a subterranean storage room converted into a makeshift lockup—bolt locks on the outside of the heavy wooden door, no windows, no lights, just a concrete floor with a couple of thin, filthy blankets and empty juice boxes."
A cold rage flared in my chest, hotter and sharper than anything I had ever experienced.
"Where is Rebecca?" I snarled.
"She wasn't home when patrol officers arrived," Detective Chen replied steadily. "According to neighbors, she left in her SUV around noon—hours before the kids made it to your driveway. An all-points bulletin has been issued for her vehicle. We will find her."
"Find her and lock her in that same damn basement," I muttered.
May you like
Detective Chen placed a sympathetic yet firm hand on my shoulder. "Mr. Miller, I need you to stay here with the children. CPS caseworker Marcus Thorne is on his way to assist with emergency custody paperwork. Because you are the closest biological relative, temporary emergency placement can be granted to you immediately, provided your home passes a quick safety assessment."
"My home is safe," I vowed fiercely. "They will never step foot near that monster again."
