A cold wet spear of panic lanced sideways through my chest, forcing me onto an equal plane with the damp evening grass.
“… and we’re at the hospital now.”
My voice was a clenched squeak. “What?” As much a plea to have misunderstood, as a desperate cry for help.
The voice on the other end let out a sorrowful gasp, a breath taken for strength before diving into words of blood and death.
“We found him on the kitchen floor bleeding – they told us he’s hemorrhaging. Honey, he’s not going to survive the night. Is anyone with you? Darling? Hello?”
Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream. I just dug my hands into the ground, buried my face in grass, and cried.