Chapter 1: The Locked Door
Someone yanked hard on the locked glass door.
Charlotte screamed.
Delilah flinched so violently that her forehead struck her knees.
Terrence moved before he thought about it.
He stepped between the girls and the entrance, one hand raised toward the glass.
“Stay back,” he said quietly.
“Both of you. Behind me.””
Douglas Sinclair stopped pulling the handle.
For one second, father and police officer stared at each other through the rain-streaked glass.
Douglas looked nothing like the man Charlotte had described.
He looked composed.
Professional.
He wore a charcoal overcoat over a white shirt, his dark hair neatly combed despite the rain. His medical ID badge still hung from his neck, and his phone was pressed against his ear.
Then he smiled.
It was the kind of smile Terrence had seen from people who believed the room belonged to them.
“Officer,” Douglas said through the glass, tapping his phone against the window.
“Open the door.””
Terrence didn't move.
Douglas pointed toward the girls.
“My daughters are sick. They need me.””
Terrence looked over his shoulder.
Charlotte had both arms wrapped around Delilah now.
“They're afraid of you?”” he asked.
Douglas's expression changed by only a fraction.
“They're seven,” he said.
“They're afraid of police officers.””
Charlotte shook her head.
“No.””
Terrence heard it clearly.
Douglas heard it too.
His smile disappeared.
“Charlotte,” he called through the glass, his voice suddenly soft.
“Come here, sweetheart.””
Charlotte pressed herself closer to Delilah.
Terrence noticed the movement.
Not away from the officer.
Away from the sound of her father's voice.
He touched the radio on his shoulder.
“Dispatch, confirm ambulance ETA.””
Static crackled.
“Unit 12, ambulance approximately ninety seconds out.””
Douglas began knocking again.
Not pounding.
Knocking.
Three slow taps.
“Terrence,” he said, reading the officer's name from his uniform.
“I understand you're trying to help, but you're escalating a medical situation.””
“I'll be happy to discuss it when the ambulance arrives.””
“There is nothing to discuss.””
Terrence's eyes dropped briefly to the pharmacy record.
Dr. Douglas Sinclair.
Prescription timestamp: 3:42 p.m.
Then to the evidence envelope.
Empty oral syringe.
Then to Delilah.
Her face was almost gray.
Douglas lifted his phone.
“I've already called my attorney.””
Terrence didn't answer.
Douglas's eyes narrowed.
“Open the door.””
“No.””
The word came out calm.
Firm.
Douglas stared at him.
Behind Terrence, Charlotte whispered, “He said the medicine would make her sleepy.””
Douglas's head snapped toward her.
“Charlotte.””
The little girl covered her mouth.
Terrence turned.
“It's okay.””
Douglas slammed his palm against the glass.
“You do not question my daughter without me present.””
Terrence looked back at him.
“Actually, I do when a child walks into a police station asking for protection.””
The rain hammered against the windows.
Douglas's jaw tightened.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
It was a short, humorless sound.
“Protection from her father?””
“Yes.””
“She doesn't understand what's happening.””
“Maybe not.””
Terrence held his gaze.
“But I do.””
Douglas's phone rang.
He glanced down.
His face changed.
Just for an instant.
Fear.
Then it was gone.
He answered.
“Hello?””
He listened.
“Who?””
Another pause.
His eyes flicked toward Terrence.
Then toward the evidence envelope.
“That's impossible.””
Terrence's attention sharpened.
Douglas ended the call without saying goodbye.
“Who was that?”” Terrence asked.
Douglas didn't answer.
Instead, he backed away from the door.
Then he looked at Charlotte.
“Sweetheart,” he said, “you need to tell the officer exactly what happened.””
Charlotte stared at him.
Douglas smiled again.
But this time there was something cold underneath it.
“Because if you don't,” he continued, “your sister could be in much bigger trouble.””
Delilah began crying.
Charlotte stood abruptly.
“Don't listen to him!””
Douglas's face hardened.
Terrence stepped closer to the girls.
“It's all right.””
But Charlotte wasn't looking at Terrence anymore.
She was staring at her father.
“He said Mom did it,” she whispered.
Douglas went completely still.
Terrence felt the room change.
“Who said Mom did what?”” he asked.
Charlotte shook her head.
Douglas turned away from the glass.
And when he spoke again, his voice was barely audible.
“Officer, you have no idea what you've just stepped into.””
The ambulance siren suddenly rose outside.
Douglas looked toward the street.
Then he ran.
Terrence watched him disappear around the corner of the building.
He hadn't expected that.
A guilty man might run.
An innocent father might run after his sick child.
But Douglas hadn't run toward the ambulance.
He'd run away from it.
Terrence grabbed the radio.
“Dispatch, the children's father just left the station on foot. I need another unit at the rear entrance immediately.””
“Copy.””
The siren stopped.
Paramedics rushed through the side entrance.
A woman in a navy uniform dropped beside Delilah.
“Hi, sweetheart. I'm Megan. Can you tell me where it hurts?””
Delilah pointed at her stomach.
Megan looked at Terrence.
“How long has she been like this?””
Charlotte answered.
“Since Daddy made her swallow it.””
Megan's eyes moved to the officer.
“What did he make her swallow?””
Terrence shook his head.
“We don't know yet.””
Charlotte's voice came again.
“It was in a little cup.””
Megan gently placed a hand near Delilah's shoulder.
“Okay. We're going to take care of you.””
Charlotte grabbed her sister's hand.
“I'm going too.””
“You can ride with us,” Megan said.
Charlotte looked at Terrence.
“Will you come?””
Terrence nodded.
“As far as they'll let me.””
The paramedics lifted Delilah onto the stretcher.
She whimpered.
Charlotte climbed into the ambulance beside her.
Terrence stayed at the station long enough to hand the sealed syringe to another officer who had just arrived.
Then he heard a sound from the front desk.
A small electronic chime.
He turned.
The computer screen had refreshed.
The pharmacy record he'd pulled up was still open.
But beneath Douglas Sinclair's name, a second line had appeared.
*Previous prescription: revoked.*
Terrence frowned.
Then another notification appeared.
*Reason for revocation: pediatric adverse event.*
Date: eleven months earlier.
Patient name:
*Lily Sinclair.*
Terrence stared at the screen.
Sinclair.
The same last name.
He grabbed the printed record.
Outside, the ambulance began pulling away.
And suddenly Terrence understood why Douglas had looked frightened when the phone rang.
May you like
Someone else had just discovered the girls were at the station.
Someone who knew exactly what the medicine could do.
