“Probably good that you’re here. This is Savannah’s family. They’re here trying to take Tommy. Again,” I emphasize, and he nods. Knowing everything about this situation, since I briefed him regularly as we worked on the adoption paperwork. “Sheriff, these people came into the hospital with the intention of kidnapping my son. Doing so by using physical force, harassment…” I say, and Sawyer steps forward.
“Kidnapping, assault, harassment, endangerment of a child…” Sawyer starts listing legal terms, taking over talking to the sheriff as the deputies move fast, cuffs snapping onto wrists.
Hudson talks to the sheriff, telling him what he saw, and the sheriff looks at me with narrowed eyes.
“I won't cuff you, but I’ll need you and your wife to come to the station to be interviewed.”
I nod, happy to oblige. “We will.” We know each other. He isn’t stupid; he’s aware of the situation.
“I can get you the hospital security camera footage. It would’ve caught everything,” Hudson adds. I’ve nothing to hide, and now that I know cameras are here, I'm glad I didn’t start punching.
As the sheriff moves toward his deputies who are restraining the two men, Eden starts striding toward me, shrieking nonsense, her palms raised like she’s calling down fire from Heaven.
She steps right up to me, lunges at me, and slaps my face with a shrill cry. I stand rigid, refusing to strike back, though every nerve screams to retaliate. The deputies seize her instantly, cuffs biting her wrists. She looks stunned, as if she truly believed she was untouchable. Her face laces with fear as she’s thrown into the police car.
“Assault by the female perpetrator,” Sawyer says, making notes on his phone, and I take in a deep breath, refusing to feel the sting on my cheek.
One by one, they’re dragged to the waiting police cars, still screaming, probably still praying I would submit to their will.
Not able to watch this anymore, I turn and walk into the hospital, needing to see her. I stride down the hall and find her hidden in Hudson's office with a nurse nearby, some water, and a cup of tea. Savannah’s still shaking, tears in her eyes.
“What happened?” She looks at me as I enter the room. Thank God she didn’t see it. Didn’t see the craziness I just witnessed. “What happened to your face?” She’s on her feet instantly, rushing toward me and cupping my cheek.
“Your sister slapped me.”
Her eyebrows rise, and I see the anger swirl.
“She has gone too far,” she grits out, looking like she’s about to walk out to the parking lot herself to defend my honor. I grab her hand before she can leave.
“They’re gone. The sheriff took them to the station. We’ll be charging them with everything we can,” Sawyer says, looking between us as he enters the room.
“I’ll go down to the station now and make sure everything is handled. I’ll be putting forth an AVO so they can’t come to the bakery, to your house, or within a mile of it at any time. But I think after what I witnessed, they would be stupid to try.”
I nod to Sawyer, knowing he has it handled. It’s handy having a friend who’s a lawyer. Things move at a much more rapid rate.
“Let’s give them some space,” Sawyer says to the nurse, and they both walk out, the door shutting behind them.
I look down at Tommy, now sleeping peacefully in his mom’s embrace.
“It’s over. It’s all over. They won't bother you again. They won't bother us. Tommy is safe. You are safe,” I reassure Savannah. She pulls in a deep breath and leans forward, her head pressing against my chest. I wrap my arms around her and pull them both to me tight. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. I feel her body shaking. And when I feel my shirt get damp, I know she’s crying. But I stand, holding her through it all.
Letting her get it out. Knowing her nightmare is now over. And we can finally move on.
42
Savannah
I have one eye on my son and one eye on the cupcakes I’m icing. I don’t exactly know when it happened, but he’s started to roll. Well, he’s attempting to. He’s moving around more and more, and I have absolutely no thought as to how I’m going to work when he’s a toddler. The kitchen isn’t built with kids in mind. Baby, yes. Toddler, no.
I haven’t heard anything about my family since the hospital incident a few weeks ago. I was interviewed, but the sheriff knew everything anyway. Sawyer and Griffin have handled most of the paperwork, and I gave my statement and decided to press full charges. They have a court hearing coming up, but their reputation has been tarnished in the community, in their church. Their behavior wasn’t condoned by Paster Greg, at least that’s what he has publicly declared. I'm sure as soon as his church's reputation was mentioned in all the news stories, he decided to part ways with my father.
So now we’re back to what I hope is our normal. Whispers being the small town it is, the gossip was intense for the first week. Everyone now knows what happened at the hospital and now many people around here know more about my life than I ever was prepared to share. Yet instead of shunning me like I thought they would, my business has almost doubled. It’s like Tanner always says: the people of Whispers support one another, and I'm seeing it firsthand. Betty’s is busy, all day, every day. The town’s support, the support of my friends, it means the world.
The chime on the front door rings out, and my shoulder stiffens; the instant anxiety I feel from that ringing bell is still something I’m working on.
“Hey, sweetness.” Griffin's warm tone fills my kitchen, and I relax.
“Hey. What are you doing here this time of day?” I look at the clock on the wall, seeing it’s early in the afternoon.
