“What did she tell you?”
Emily whispered, “If somebody comes in, take the babies and hide.”
Lena left the room and called the deputies still processing the farmhouse.
“Search every entrance. Check locks, windows, footprints, vehicles, everything. I want the full scene photographed before anyone touches another object.”
The deputy hesitated.
“We already found the husband’s truck behind the barn.”
Lena stopped walking.
“Behind the barn?”
“Yeah.”
“Was it visible from the house?”
“Not really.”
“Keys?”
“In the ignition.”
That did not sound like a husband coming home normally.
“Anything else?”
“Actually… yes.”
The deputy lowered his voice.
“There’s a broken cell phone in the grass outside the kitchen door.”
“Whose?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Bag it.”
Lena looked through the observation window toward Emily.
Something had happened at that farmhouse after Sarah collapsed.
And Emily had heard it.
Michael Carter woke first.
His eyes opened in the emergency department four hours after arrival.
His first words were not about himself.
“Sarah.”
Ethan leaned over him.
“Mr. Carter, you’re in County General.”
“My wife.”
“She’s receiving treatment.”
Michael tried to sit.
Pain tore through his broken arm.
He gasped and fell back.
“My kids?”
“All alive.”
Michael’s eyes flooded instantly.
“All?”
“Yes.”
“The twins?”
“Being treated.”
“Emily?”
“She’s safe.”
Michael covered his face with his uninjured hand and began sobbing.
Ethan waited.
Then Lena stepped forward.
“Mr. Carter, I’m Detective Ortiz.”
Michael looked at her.
“What happened?”
“That’s what I need you to tell me.”
“I don’t know.”
“You were found unconscious beside your wife.”
Michael stared.
“What?”
“You don’t remember?”
He squeezed his eyes shut.
“I remember driving home.”
“When?”
“Friday night.”
“What time?”
“Maybe eleven.”
“Why so late?”
“We were restoring service after storms near Madison County. I called Sarah before leaving.”
“Did she answer?”
“No.”
“How many times did you call?”
“Maybe six.”
“Were you worried?”
“She has newborn twins. Her phone is always buried under something.”
Lena said nothing.
Michael continued.
“I drove home. I saw the lights off.”
“What happened next?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“My truck…”
“Yes?”
“I parked…”
His voice weakened.
“Not by the house.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t.”
Lena watched him.
“Your truck was behind the barn.”
Michael’s confusion looked genuine.
“No. I pulled into the driveway.”
“What happened after that?”
“I got out.”
He breathed harder.
“I remember the porch.”
“Did you enter the house?”
“I…”
His hand moved toward the swollen side of his face.
