Part 7 — Safe at Last

“Uncle Marcus?” Ethan’s voice came closer, trembling.
“I’ve got you,” Marcus said—soft now. “We’re going outside.”

Kyle groaned somewhere behind him. Then he screamed, “You broke my nose!”
Marcus didn’t raise his voice. “Try explaining to a judge why you attacked a preschooler.”

When I finally reached my street, police cars were already pulling up.
I slammed my car into park and ran.

Marcus stood in the yard holding Ethan carefully. My son’s face was wet with tears, his arm held tight to his chest.
“Daddy!” he cried.

I dropped to my knees and pulled him to me like I could stitch him back together with my arms.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’m here.”

Part 8 — Aftermath

Doctors confirmed Ethan’s arm was broken, but it would heal. The other wounds would take longer.
The next days were a blur of hospital paperwork, police statements, and hard questions my ex-wife didn’t want to answer.

Kyle faced serious charges. And for once, the story wasn’t going to be buried under excuses.
Because that call lasted less than a minute.

But it changed everything.