Chapter 7 - The Scratches on the Skin
Inside the ambulance, the red-haired boy was lifted onto a gurney.
As the paramedics adjusted his green shirt to attach heart monitor pads, I saw three thin, red scratch marks running across his forehead and nose.
They weren't from the broken glass.
They were clean, precise fingernail scratches.
"Wait," I said, stepping closer to the gurney. "Where did those cuts come from?"
Detective Miller leaned over the gurney, examining the boy's face.
The boy opened his eyes slightly, his gaze locking onto the detective's badge.
"Son," Miller asked gently, leaning down. "Can you tell us your name?"
The boy swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Toby..."
"Toby," Miller repeated softly. "Who put you and your sister in that van, Toby?"
Toby looked at the ceiling of the ambulance, tears welling in his red-rimmed eyes, dripping down into his ears.
"The man..." Toby whispered, his voice cracking into a ragged sob. "The man with the ring."
"What man, Toby?"
"The man who came to our house..." Toby whimpered, his small hands clutching the gurney blanket. "He... he took Mommy away first. Then he told me to get in the van or he'd hurt Leo."
"Who is Leo?" Miller demanded, his brow furrowing.
May you like
Toby looked at the infant resting in the transport incubator beside him.
"Her name is Leo," Toby choked out. "She's... she's not my sister. She's his daughter."
