Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“No way. No autopsy.” The thought of them cutting my son to pieces brought bile to the back of my throat. “No one’s cutting open my kid!”
“They have to, Sutton. It’s the only way to know what happened and rule out foul play.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“They have to be sure that Tracy didn’t have something to do with it.”
“Tracy would never!”
“I know, but there’s no way to prove that unless they do the autopsy.”
“Damn.”
The thought of him lying on some metal table made my legs give way, and I sank to the ground. I kept the headset clutched to my ear, praying that she would eventually tell me that it was all some terrible mistake, but those words never came.
My son was gone—his present and future had been ripped away with one fated swoop. I’d never felt so helpless. I wanted to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but I remained planted on the floor. Tears blurred my vision, and I clenched my fists, feeling utterly hopeless.
I was thousands of miles away. I couldn’t hold my son one last time. I couldn’t comfort my wife. I couldn’t even be there to grieve with my family. I couldn’t do anything. “What about Tracy?”
“She’s completely devastated.” Mom’s voice was strained as she told me, “You know how she loved that boy. I honestly don’t know how she’s gonna get through this, but her mother and sister are on their way, and we’re here, too. So, she won’t be alone.”
The words were meant to be comforting, but they only made me feel worse. I should’ve been the one who was there for her, not her mother or sister. Anger surged through me, mingling with my sorrow and regret. It was all I could do to keep from completely losing it. “I should be there... I should’ve been there all along.”
“You can’t do that to yourself.” My mother’s voice softened, filled with the love and understanding only a mother could give. “Your son knew you loved him. He was so proud of you. We all are, and you’ll come home soon, and we’ll get through this.”
The call ended with more tears and broken words of comfort.
The days that followed were a blur.
I was given leave and made it to my son’s funeral, but I barely remembered any of it. I was a complete mess and was just going through the motions, and it was a struggle to keep it together as I stood there staring at the pile of dirt.
I looked past the graveyard and to the cars that whipped by, and I was in utter dismay. I couldn’t understand how their world continued when mine had been completely shattered.
I wanted my son. I wanted him to be there with me. I wanted to watch him grow up, play little league, and play on the football team. Instead, his life was cut short, and I needed someone to blame. It was the only way I could move forward.
That blame landed on Tracy.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t something a loving husband should’ve done. I should’ve trusted her. I should’ve remembered that she was a good mother and would never purposefully hurt him, but I was consumed with doubt.
I couldn’t stop thinking that she should’ve known about the heart defect. Maybe if she hadn’t missed those doctor’s appointments, they would’ve caught it. They would’ve seen that something was wrong and fixed it. Maybe then, our son would still be here and not buried in some stupid grave.
It was that doubt that ate away at our marriage and ultimately ended my life as I knew it.
Doubt is a treacherous thing.
It can lead you down roads that you have no business being on.
And tonight, it led me to hurt a complete stranger.
Now, I had to figure out what I was going to do about.
Whitney
I had no idea how long I’d been lying there wide awake, staring at the ceiling. It felt like days. I’d tried to sleep, but every creak, every little groan had me tossing and turning. We were miles away, but my mind kept racing with what-ifs and the lingering fear that Dylan would find us. I was terrified that he would try and finish what he’d started.
I glanced down at Toby and sighed when I found him sleeping peacefully. For a brief second, it was like nothing had happened, and then, I spotted the bruises on his arms. Guilt washed over me, and it was all I could do to keep myself from sobbing. I loved him so much, and I hated that I’d gotten us into this mess.
“I love you... I love you so, so much.”
I carefully brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, and his eyes fluttered open. “Hey, Mom.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay. I’ve been awake.” He closed his eyes and rolled to his side. “I’ve just been laying here.”