It felt like three hours.
Paramedics came through the front door first.
One was a woman with gray-streaked hair and kind, tired eyes.
She knelt beside Drew and spoke to him the way people speak when they know a child has had too many adults lie.
“My name is Karen. I’m going to look at your leg, okay? Your uncle is right here.”
Drew looked at Peter before nodding.
Another paramedic checked Lily’s pulse, temperature, and breathing.
Lily flinched at the touch, then looked ashamed for flinching.
That made Peter want to put his fist through a wall.
He did not.
He stood where the children could see him.
“I’m right here,” he kept saying. “I’m not leaving.”
Two police officers arrived behind the paramedics.
One took Peter into the kitchen just far enough that Drew could still see him.
The officer asked questions for the police report.
Time of arrival.
What Drew said.
What Lily looked like.
Whether Peter had touched or moved the injured leg.
Whether Reena had a history of refusing contact.
Peter answered everything.
He gave dates as best he could.
