Then Tommy said something that made Officer Reyes, who was standing in the doorway, stop writing for a second.
“Mom said if I just slept until morning, everybody could calm down.”
Dana’s face stayed perfectly neutral.
“Did she say that before the drink? Or after?”
“Before.”
“Did you know what was in the drink?”
“No.”
“Did you want to drink it?”
“No.”
“What happened when you said no?”
Tommy looked at me. Then at Dana.
“Dad held my shoulder.”
I had to look away.
Not because I doubted him. Because if I looked at his face for one more second, I’d have gotten up and gone through that hospital looking for my son.
Dana must’ve seen it.
“Joe,” she said quietly. “Can you step outside for a few minutes?”
I nodded.
Tommy panicked. “Grandpa?”
“I’m right outside the door.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
I stepped out into the hallway. I stood there staring at the floor.
Robert was twenty feet away. His attorney next to him. Jennifer sitting in a plastic chair with her arms crossed.
Neither one of them looked at me.
Then Robert did.
“Dad,” he said. “You need to understand what this looks like.”
That almost made me laugh. Because that was exactly the problem.
For years, Robert had lived by how things looked. Nice house. Good job selling commercial insurance. Perfect Christmas card photos. Church every other Sunday.
Meanwhile, my grandson was sitting on a laundry room floor whispering into a phone that I wasn’t welcome.
Robert took one step toward me.
“You came onto my property after I told you to leave.”
“Tommy asked me for help.”
“He was grounded.”
“He was drugged.”
Jennifer stood up.
“Don’t you dare say that.”
A nurse at the station looked over.
I lowered my voice.
“He told them he didn’t want the drink.”
“You’re twisting a confused child’s words,” Jennifer said.
“No,” I said. “I spent nine months twisting things for you.”
Robert frowned. “What?”
“Every excuse,” I said. “You’re busy. Tommy has school. Jennifer needs space. Christmas is complicated. Mom’s death changed everybody.”
My throat got tight.
“I kept finding reasons not to believe my own grandson was scared.”
“Dad. Stop.”
“No.”
It was the first real no I’d said to my son in years.
His attorney stepped in, smooth and polite.
“Mr. Carter. I’d strongly advise everyone to avoid discussing the facts tonight.”
“Good advice,” I said. I looked at Robert.
“You should take it.”
Sophia Rivers is an experienced News Content Editor with a sharp eye for detail and a passion for delivering accurate and engaging news stories. At TheArchivists, she specializes in curating, editing, and presenting news content that informs and resonates with a global audience.
Sophia holds a degree in Journalism from the University of Toronto, where she developed her skills in news reporting, media ethics, and digital journalism. Her expertise lies in identifying key stories, crafting compelling narratives, and ensuring journalistic integrity in every piece she edits.
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