At 8:46 a.m., Peter dialed 911.
“My nephew and niece just showed up at my house,” he told the operator. “The boy’s leg looks broken. The little girl looks severely underfed. They said their stepmother locked them in the basement.”
The operator asked for the address.
Peter gave it.
She asked for ages.
“Six and three.”
She asked whether the children were conscious.
“Yes.”
She asked whether the suspected person was nearby.
“No. They came from her house. They crawled here. He crawled here.”
Even saying it felt impossible.
While he spoke, Drew kept one arm around Lily.
He watched the front door.
Then the hallway.
Then Peter.
Not like a child waiting for help.
Like a child measuring whether help could turn dangerous.
Sirens arrived three minutes later.
