Chapter 11
“Nooo!” I yell playfully as Raine puckers her tiny lips and blows carrots all over me, her, and the tray on her high chair. The sneaky little girl knows what she’s doing. Raine bursts into a fit of giggles. How can you stay mad at her, though, with those chubby cheeks, wrinkled nose, and the sound of that laughter?
“You’re a silly girl.” I tickle her belly. “I think we are done with the carrots. How about some strawberries and bananas?”
“Ah,” she responds, making me smile. I open the container of baby food and give her the first spoonful. “Mm.” She swallows it down.
“Is that good?” I ask, giving her another taste. The front door opens and closes, and Callie walks into our dining area. “Did you get all the papers graded?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure I was going to enjoy being a TA, but Professor Bryant—or Liam, I guess I should say—makes it fun. The students are great. It’s kind of strange working for Momma’s boyfriend, though.” She laughs.
“Mama!” Raine squeals.
“Hi, baby!” Callie gives her a kiss on the cheek, and hugs her the best she can in the high chair. Callie may not be her biological mother, but that makes no difference; Raine loves Callie as much as Callie loves Raine. “Where’s Cydney?”
“I don’t know. She hasn’t called.” I look at the clock on my phone. “It’s 6:30; she should have been home by now, or called saying she was running late.”
“I’ll call her.” Callie grabs her phone out of her messenger bag, pulls up Cydney’s number, and tries. It keeps ringing before going to voicemail. “Hey, Cyd! Where are you? You’re not answering and you’re late. Call me back.”
Our worried looks mirror each other: tight brows, biting our bottom lips. “That’s weird,” I comment when Callie hangs up.
“Yeah. Barry’s isn’t far from here, though; let’s give her a few minutes and then we will load up Raine in her stroller and walk there,” Callie replies, and gets her out of her high chair to get her cleaned up.
She paces with Raine in her arms while I stay seated, watching the clock. The seconds tick by, and the longer we wait, the more worried we become. “It’s been ten minutes, let’s go,” I tell Callie as I stand from my seat at the dining table.
We fasten Raine in her stroller, grab our keys and phones, and then walk out of our condo, making sure to lock it behind us.
With a quick stride, we make it to Barry’s in no time. It didn’t take long walking the four blocks from the condo, but it seems eerily quiet at the garage.
I point to the Jeep we all share. “There’s the Jeep. Wait here with Raine; I’ll go inside and look.”
“Okay.” Callie looks around, biting the inside of her cheek.
I first try the door for the office; it’s unlocked, so I walk behind the desk. “Cydney!” I yell out, but there’s no answer.
I check the bathrooms, nothing.
I call her name again, nothing.
I check the lobby, still nothing.
I call her name once more, still no response.
I walk back outside, look at Callie, and shake my head. The garage bay is open; I walk inside and call her name a few more times. I see a few cars and lots of tools and machines, but no Cydney. Walking in further, I come around a car and see a tire iron, blood coating the metal and dripping to the cement floor.
No! No! No!
Tears brim my eyes and my heart slams against my chest. I rush forward. Cydney lays so still, blood all over her. There are splatters of blood around the work area, on the car directly beside her, and a small pool of blood—her blood—around her. Cydney’s face is swollen so badly.
Dropping to my knees, I check for a pulse, and my hands become wet with her blood. Thank God, she’s alive. “Callie!” I scream. Jumping up, I run back outside. “Call 9-1-1! She’s hurt!” I look down at my blood covered hands. I pull my own phone out of my pocket to make the call that will be harder. Momma answers on the second ring. “Momma, you need to get here soon. Cyd’s been hurt.”
“What happened?” Momma’s voice turns frantic.
“I don’t know; there’s so much blood,” I cry. Tears stream down my face.
She says shakily, “I’m on my way.” We both hang up.
“Oh, my God!” Callie’s hands are shaking so bad, she can barely hold the phone. “We need an ambulance at Barry’s Garage. My sister’s been hurt. No, I don’t know what happened!” Callie is trying to keep calm as she speaks, but she’s nearly as crazed as Momma.
I run back inside to sit with Cydney until they get here. Relief floods me when I hear the sirens. The paramedics rush in, pushing me out of the way.
As I go back out to wait with Callie, an officer walks over to us and asks what happened. We go over how she was late and didn’t call so we came to check on her, and he takes our information, writing it in the little notepad he has.
“It’s a good thing you girls did; otherwise she could have been here all night. It looks like someone attacked her with the tire iron that was lying beside her. We will gather evidence, start an investigation, and be in touch,” the officer tells us. Callie and I cling to each other, tears rolling down our cheeks.
One of the EMTs shout over the sirens, “Anyone riding with her?”
“You go!” Callie tells me. “I’ll put Raine in her car seat and follow in the Jeep.” I nod as we let go of each other.
I run over, get into the ambulance, and seconds later we are rushing to the hospital.
I stay quiet, watching as they hook an IV into Cydney’s hand and check her vitals. I hear my phone ring in my pocket, but I’m frozen in place, my eyes not once leaving my sister. I can’t bring myself to move to answer.
Who would do something like this? One person comes to mind: our father.