Chapter 2 - Forty-Two Seconds
The first officer entered our house forty-two seconds after the second impact.
I know that because the 911 recording later became evidence.
Time behaves strangely during fear.
To me, Daniel had been outside that bathroom for twenty minutes.
The recording showed less than three.
Downstairs, our front door had been unlocked.
One patrol officer announced himself.
Daniel stopped hitting the bathroom door.
That silence frightened me almost as much as the impacts.
Then:
“Police! Hands where I can see them!”
Daniel shouted back:
“My wife is having some kind of episode.”
My body went cold.
Episode.
The word had already been prepared.
I heard another officer.
Then the woman:
“I’m not involved.”
Daniel:
“Melissa, stop talking.”
There it was.
A name.
Melissa.
The operator spoke into my ear.
“Rachel, officers are inside the home. Stay where you are until they identify themselves at the door.”
I did.
Noah whispered:
“Is it police?”
“I think so.”
The hallway became noise.
Commands.
Movement.
Daniel arguing.
Then one voice directly outside.
“Rachel Carter?”
“Yes.”
“Officer Jason Morales. Your 911 operator has confirmed we’re here. Is Noah with you?”
“Yes.”
“Is anyone else inside the bathroom?”
“No.”
“Can you open the door?”
I stared at the damaged frame.
My hand would not move.
Noah’s did.
He reached for the lock.
Then stopped.
Looked at me.
I nodded.
He turned it.
The door opened three inches before the broken frame caught.
Officer Morales pulled carefully from outside.
When there was enough space, Noah went first.
The officer lifted him.
I tried to stand.
My legs folded.
That was when everyone realized something else was wrong.
May you like
I was not merely frightened.
I was sick.
