Part 2: The Emergency Redial
Part 2: The Emergency Redial
The silence from the dead phone line felt like a heavy blow.
My hands shook so hard I almost dropped the device onto the patio stones.
I didn't try to call Nicholas back.
I didn't try to call Hazel.
I knew every second wasted on a busy signal was a second she didn't have.
I dialed Detective Miller immediately.
He was the officer my attorney, Mr. Rodriguez, had connected us with earlier that week.
"Miller," the voice answered on the second ring.
"Nicholas is hurting her," I said, my voice rising. "I was just on the phone with Hazel. I heard a crash. I heard her scream."
"Are you at the condo, Mrs. Montgomery?"
"No, I'm at the retirement community. But you have to go. Please."
"Units are already moving," Miller said. "We flagged the address after your lawyer submitted the digital files this afternoon."
I hung up, grabbed my car keys, and ran out the door.
The drive across Boston usually took twenty-five minutes.
That night, I did it in twelve.
I ignored the red lights.
I ignored the heavy rain blurring my windshield.
My mind was trapped in the past, remembering the night my own husband had broken my collarbone because dinner was cold.
I had stayed silent then.
I would not stay silent now.
As I pulled up to the luxury high-rise building, the blue and red lights of three police cruisers were already reflecting off the glass facade.
The lobby security guard was arguing with two officers near the elevators.
"You can't just go up without a warrant," the guard shouted.
Detective Miller pushed past him, holding his badge up. "Domestic emergency. Get out of the way."
I followed them into the elevator.
No one spoke as the numbers clicked upward.
May you like
The doors opened, and the smell of ozone and broken glass hit us instantly.
The door to apartment 24B was swinging wide open.
