Chapter 2 - Under the Skin
The silence that followed the bone saw was heavy, smelling of stale antiseptic and the copper tang of fresh blood. The hard, white shell that had encased Emily’s arm for weeks was now a heap of gray rubble on the linoleum floor. Emily was weeping, not from the sting of the removal, but from a shuddering release of breath, her eyes wide and darting around the small, sterile room as if the walls were closing in.
"See?" David said, his voice rough, stepping back to wipe the saw blade on a paper towel. "It’s just skin. It’s just a bone."
Emily didn’t look at David. She pressed her good hand against the raw, red flesh of her forearm, her knuckles turning white. "He’s still there," she whispered, the sound so faint it was lost in the hum of the overhead lights. "The bad man. He’s scratching."
Sarah moved to Emily’s side, her hands hovering over her daughter’s shoulders but afraid to touch. She looked from David to the pile of plaster, then back to Emily. The terror in the child’s eyes was a mirror image of the night of the accident, a terrifying echo.
"It’s just the nerves healing," Sarah said, her voice trembling with a practiced calm she didn't feel. "You’re hallucinating, Em. The pain is making you see things."
"It’s not a hallucination, Sarah," David said, his tone dropping. He stepped closer, ignoring the warning look Sarah shot him. "She’s describing tactile hallucinations. She feels like something is still inside her. That’s not normal."
"Stop it!" Sarah snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through the hum of the lights. She grabbed Emily’s shoulder, her grip firm but shaking. "You’re scaring her. You’re doing this on purpose. You came here to stir up trouble, and now you’re twisting her words to make yourself look like a hero."
David froze, his jaw tight. "I’m trying to help her."
"You’re trying to destroy my family," Sarah countered, her voice rising. The accusation hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. She turned her back on David, burying her face in Emily’s hair. "See? Look what you’ve done. You’ve upset her."
Emily whimpered and burrowed deeper into Sarah’s chest, but her eyes remained fixed on the empty space where the cast had been, filled with a terror that had nothing to do with pain.
Sarah took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady herself. The memory of the kitchen table, three years ago, flooded her mind unbidden, sharp and jagged like broken glass.
*David had been drunk, his face flushed red, leaning across the table. "He’s a wolf, Sarah. You have to see it. He eats people."*
Sarah had laughed then, a cold, dismissive sound. "He’s a provider, David. He’s not a monster. You’re just jealous because he has a career and you don't. You're bitter."
*David had looked at her with a broken kind of hope, then turned away. "I’m trying to save you from yourself."*
Back in the hospital room, the present moment crashed down on her. Robert was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He hadn't said a word since David arrived, but his presence was a physical weight, a storm cloud waiting to break.
"You need to leave," Robert said. His voice was low, smooth, and terrifyingly calm.
"I’m not going anywhere," David said, his eyes locking with Robert’s. "Not until we figure out what’s wrong with her."
"David," Sarah said, her voice cracking. She turned to him, her expression pleading. "Please. Just go. For me? Please."
David looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the cracks in the armor. He saw the fear, yes, but beneath it was a desperate, clawing denial. She wasn't just afraid of losing her family; she was terrified of the truth.
"Sarah, he needs help," David said softly.
Robert took a step forward, invading her personal space. The air in the room seemed to thin. He reached out, not to touch Emily, but to place a hand on Sarah’s back, a gesture of possessive intimacy that felt more like a cage.
"If you want to keep your daughter," Robert said, his eyes never leaving David’s, "you’ll tell him to pack his bags. If he doesn’t leave within the hour, I’m taking Emily home. And if he’s still here when I get back..." He let the threat hang in the air, a thick, suffocating fog. "...I’ll make sure he never sees her again."
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Sarah flinched as if slapped. The reality of his ultimatum settled over her like a shroud. She looked at David, then at Emily, whose eyes were wide and terrified, and finally at Robert, whose smile was a thin, tight line of steel.
"You heard him, David," Sarah whispered, her voice defeated. "Go home."
