Chapter 2
The sharp sting of Elena’s push still tingled in Sarah’s palms. Officer Vance stepped firmly between the two women, his large frame acting as an immediate physical barrier. He pulled out a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, snapping them onto his hands with a crisp, authoritative sound that cut through the tense afternoon silence.
"Step back, both of you," Vance commanded, his voice deep and steady, accustomed to handling domestic powder kegs that threatened to explode into violence. He dropped to his knees beside Leo, pressing two fingers firmly against the boy's slender neck to check for a pulse. His brow furrowed deeply. "He's got a faint heartbeat, but it's dangerously slow. Has anyone here administered CPR or know what he ingested?"
Sarah stumbled backward, her white sweater damp with grass stains and sweat. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her eyes darting toward the orange pill bottle resting innocently on the green turf. "She gave him something," Sarah choked out, pointing a trembling finger straight at Elena. "She brought those pills here. It was in her bag. She told me she was going to ruin my life, and now she’s killed my little boy!"
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Elena folded her arms tightly across her white blazer dress, her chin tilted upward in defiance, though a faint tremor in her lower lip betrayed her underlying terror. "I didn't give him anything," Elena snapped back, her voice rising an octave in nervous self-preservation. "He found them! They were lying on the park bench near the fountain. I told him to leave them alone, but kids don't listen. Why is everyone always trying to blame me for every single thing that goes wrong in this miserable family?"
Little Lily began to cry softly, her small shoulders shaking as she buried her face in her denim jacket. The police officer glanced between the two adult women, recognizing the toxic history simmering beneath their polished exteriors. Family disputes were always the messiest, but this involved an innocent child fighting for his life. Vance reached out and picked up the orange pill bottle by its very edge, careful not to smudge potential fingerprints, and turned it over in his gloved palm. The label had been clumsily peeled off, leaving a sticky residue of paper and glue. There was no doctor's name, no pharmacy instructions, just a stark, empty plastic cylinder containing a few anonymous white capsules.
