Chapter 3 - The Race to St. Jude’s

The hallway was filled with second-graders marching in a neat line toward the cafeteria. I pushed past them like a madwoman, clutching Chloe against my ribs. Teachers yelled after me. "Mrs. Miller! What's wrong? You can't run in the halls!" I ignored them all. My entire world had collapsed into the desperate, shallow gasps of my seven-year-old child.

I slammed through the double glass doors into the freezing afternoon air. The cold hit my lungs like needles, but I didn't care. I sprinted to my car, laid Chloe gently in the passenger seat, and clicked her seatbelt. Her skin was turning a pale, terrifying shade of blue. The black line had swelled, raised against her flesh like a thick, twisted rope.

"Hang on, Chloe! Mommy's right here!"

I threw the car into reverse, tires screeching against the slushy asphalt. As I backed out of the parking space, I glanced in the rearview mirror. Mr. Julian was walking toward my car. He wasn't running. He was walking with a slow, chilling purpose, his hand still buried inside his coat pocket, twisting something concealed within his grip.

I slammed my foot on the gas pedal. The sedan roared, tearing out of the school lot and spraying slush across the pavement.

St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital was four miles away. Four miles of red lights, heavy traffic, and icy roads. Every second felt like an eternity.

"Chloe, talk to me!" I pleaded, swerving around a slow-moving delivery truck. "Keep looking at me, baby! Don't close your eyes!"

Chloe’s eyes were glassy. Her fingers picked helplessly at her collar. "He... he said... he collects... good girls," she whispered, her voice fading into a rattle.

"No! You belong to me!" I screamed, leaning on the horn as I ran a solid red light. Horns blared around us. Tires skidded. I didn't care. Let them sue me. Let them arrest me. Just let my baby live.

I grabbed my phone, pressed speed dial, and put it on speaker. "Mark! Pick up! Pick up!"

My husband’s voice answered on the third ring. "Sarah? What's going on? I'm in a middle of a board meeting—"

"Mark, shut up and listen!" I sobbed, tears blinding me. "Something is wrong with Chloe. There's... there's something around her neck. Under her skin." "She can't breathe. I'm driving to St. Jude's ER right now!"

"What?" Mark's voice dropped its corporate chill instantly, replaced by raw panic. "What do you mean under her skin? Did she swallow something?"

"No! The gardener... Julian... he put something on her!" I yelled, turning hard onto the hospital avenue. "Get to the emergency room NOW!"

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I threw the phone down as the emergency entrance of St. Jude's swung into view. I slammed the brakes, screeching to a halt right in the ambulance bay. I jumped out, pulled Chloe from the seat, and burst through the sliding glass doors into the ER lobby.

"HELP ME!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice echoing off the sterile white walls. "MY DAUGHTER IS STRANGLING! HELP HER!"