After My Childhood Sweetheart Took Me Away, My Wife Went Crazy

I didn't have the energy to argue. I just needed to get my son to the hospital.

Clutching David's broken body, I rushed toward the exit.

Just as we cleared the warehouse doors, Claire let out a startled gasp. "Oh!"

Her foot shot out, subtly kicking the dog. The golden retriever yelped and bolted into the distance. Claire immediately loosened the leash in her hand.

She bit her lip, tears welling perfectly in her eyes. "What do I do? A-Jin must be terrified."

"Leon, I can't live without A-Jin!"

Leon stopped dead. The indifference vanished, replaced by urgency. "It's too dangerous here. The perimeter hasn't been cleared of secondary devices. We can't let A-Jin roam free."

His voice softened instantly as he turned to Claire. "Don't worry. I'll find him."

My heart stopped.

Seeing Leon turn to leave with her, despair buckled my knees. I collapsed, grabbing his pant leg with my free hand.

I slammed my forehead against the ground until the skin broke, leaving a smear of blood on the concrete.

"Please... don't go. Leon, I'm begging you!"

"David is hurt bad. He needs a doctor now!"

"I'm begging you, for the sake of your own flesh and blood, drive us to the hospital first!"

Leon kicked me away.

My head snapped back, hitting the pavement with a sickening thud. The world spun. Darkness crept into my vision.

Leon dusted off his pants as if he'd touched something filthy. His lip curled.

"Rose Fisher, grow up. Every minute A-Jin is out there is another minute of danger."

"As for David, my colleagues are en route. It's just a superficial injury; stop acting like he's made of glass."

Without a backward glance, he took Claire's arm and hurried away.

I fumbled for my phone, fingers trembling like dead leaves in a gale. I dialed emergency services.

But neither the ambulance nor the "colleagues" Leon mentioned ever came.

David was growing heavier in my arms. His skin was cooling. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at my throat.

I couldn't wait.

Fighting through the concussion dizziness, I hoisted him up and began to run.

I ran until my lungs burned. I screamed for help until I tasted blood in my throat.

But the road stretched empty before me. Not a single car passed.

At first, David tugged at my shirt, whispering, "Mom, it hurts..."

But as the minutes dragged on, the light in his eyes—eyes that used to sparkle with mischief—began to dim. His breathing turned into a terrifying rattle.

He pressed his face against my neck, his voice barely a wisp of air.

"Mom, don't cry... I... love you..."

Tears blinded me. I couldn't see the road, only the encroaching darkness.

"Baby, don't sleep. Stay with me. The hospital is just ahead..."

"You wanted to see the ocean, remember? Mommy will take you. Just hold on..."

The warmth in my arms was fading.

I screamed his name, my voice breaking into jagged shards. "David! Wake up! Mommy is begging you..."

Silence answered me.

The winter wind sliced my face like razors, drying the tears instantly. I didn't know how long I ran before I finally collided with an ambulance.

The paramedic took one look at my son and went pale.

"No pulse! Epinephrine, now! Prep the OR!"

The driver looked at me, guilt etched on his face. "I'm sorry... the police sealed off all the roads for a bomb sweep. We couldn't get through the barricades!"

I gripped David's limp hand, sobbing his name, praying to a god I no longer believed in.

The moment we breached the hospital doors, they wheeled him away.