“Yes, ma’am,” one of the young officers said. “I’ll take you.”
He had the back door to a Patrol car open and waiting for her in a matter of seconds.
She looked to see if Mike was coming, but he was still in the house. “Let’s go,” she said to the officer. Mike could come with Brooke and Nate.
Tracy appreciated that the officer used the lights and siren to convey her quickly through the District. Having a sister—and a late father—with connections came in handy at a time like this.
She was jonesing for her phone and hoped Sam had called Angela and their mom to update them, but for now, that was also the least of her concerns. They’d find out soon enough if no one had told them yet.
On that quick ride across the District from Capitol Hill to Foggy Bottom, Tracy decided that no matter what’d happened to Ethan, she would love and support him through it, even if he’d committed a crime. Anything could be fixed as long as he was alive.
She wiped at tears that continued to come even when she would’ve thought there couldn’t be any more. Life had thrown her a lot of curveballs, starting with her parents’ contentious divorce, her unplanned pregnancy with Brooke at twenty-one, single parenthood, her father’s shooting and subsequent quadriplegia, the night Brooke was attacked and nearly killed, her father’s death and the subsequent revelations about his shooting, Sam and Nick becoming the FLOTUS and POTUS, and then Spencer’s sudden death…
All of it had tried and tested her, but nothing could compare to not knowing where her son was for almost twenty-four of the longest, most agonizing hours she’d ever experienced. She loved her three children with her whole heart and soul, but she’d had a special bond with Ethan from the start. Mothers and sons… As much as she adored her girls, it was different with him, softer, less dramatic. He was her easy kid, and it’d been that way between them from the start. Whereas Brooke and Abby challenged and tested her, Ethan tended to go along to get along.
Until recently, he’d never given her a reason to be annoyed with him, other than not putting his clothes away or leaving his dirty dishes in the sink. The battles over him wanting to run loose with his friends had been an upsetting development and had put the first serious rift in her relationship with Mike. She’d been incredulous when he’d said, in front of Ethan, “Maybe we could try it and see how it goes.”
The minute he’d said those words, it was game over for her point of view. Ethan had won the battle and would be allowed to roam free in the city at eleven years old.
Her emotions were a simmering cauldron of relief, gratitude, anger and fear for what would come next. How would this incident change Ethan’s life and hers along with it?
“Ma’am,” the young officer said. “We’re here.”
Tracy looked up in surprise to see the signs for the Emergency Department. Suddenly, she was frozen with fear so powerful, it took her breath away. What was waiting for her inside?
The officer came around the cruiser to open the back door for her.
Tracy took the hand he offered her. “Thank you.”
“I hope your son is okay.”
“Thank you. I do, too.” Tracy went into the crowded waiting room and approached the desk. “I’m Tracy Hogan. My son, Ethan, was brought in.”
“Right this way, ma’am.”
The nurse signaled for Tracy to follow her into the treatment area. She was led to a room in the far back corner on the right side. Police officers stood outside the curtain.
“Mrs. Hogan is here to see her son,” the nurse told one of the officers.
“Could I please see some ID?” the officer asked.
“I have nothing on me. I had to leave everything at my house when we were relocated.” She summoned every scintilla of calm she could to say, “Please let me see my son.”
He held the curtain aside, saving her the need to start screaming.
Tracy rushed into the room where Ethan was asleep in the bed, a blanket pulled up to his chest. He looked exhausted and his hair was standing on end, but it was him, and she’d never been so happy to see anyone. As she leaned over him, her fingers straightening his messy hair, she pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Mommy’s here,” she whispered. “I’m right here.”
His eyes flickered open, and when he saw her there, he let out a cry as he reached for her.
Tracy sobbed as she held him tight. “Ethan…”
“I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m so, so sorry.”
She could barely speak over the tsunami of emotion. “As long as you’re okay, that’s all I care about. Are you hurt?”
“They said I was dehydrated, so they’re giving me an IV, and my ribs are bruised.”
Tracy hadn’t noticed the bag hanging over him until he mentioned it. All she’d seen was his precious face, paler than it should be, but still there. Still there.
