Daddy Dearest

Chapter Twenty-Six

Alex

She's all right, she's all right, I mutter to myself as the ambulance raised toward hospital. Mrs. Davenport is sitting next to me with her hand on Melody's leg, praying. An EMT is on the other side of the stretcher monitoring her vitals. She had just given Melody some hydromorphone for pain, and it put her to sleep. Before we boarded the back of the ambulance, Mrs. Davenport called Nancy Plum to let her know we are on our way to hospital and to meet us there. I heard Mrs. Plum's cry of distress, even from where I was sitting.

The EMT removed my makeshift splint and put Melody's injured arm in a medical-grade sling to immobilize it. She gave me my shirt back and complimented me for my quick thinking and the quality of my first aid improv. I didn't tell her that I learned it from a spy novel I read as a boy. I've gained a lot of useful skills through reading.

I take the hand of Melody's uninjured arm and bring it to my lips. When I saw her fall and tumble down those concrete steps, my heart stopped. I couldn't move quickly enough. She called my name as she saw me, and I looked up just in time to witness her collapse. I couldn't see if anyone had pushed her, but a group of students milled around her. Anyone of them could have done it.

She landed on the ground, face-down in front of me. But I saw that her arm was pinned under her. It would have prevented her from smacking her head too hard on the concrete. Still, she did hit her head. I knelt next to her and tapped her shoulder. I didn't pick her up or anything because I might inadvertently make her injuries worse.

"Melody? Hey, are you okay?" I was afraid to even touch her hair, just in case she had an internal head wound. "Mel? Come on, sugar, answer me. Mel?"

I looked up to seek an authority figure who could help, but there were no nuns or security guards around for some reason. Other kids were starting to form a circle around us, some of them asking if Melody were okay or giving bad advice.

"Get back, people. Give us some room." I spotted a kid with curly hair redder than mine--Violet's brother-and ordered him to get the nurse. Due to anxiety and growing panic, it didn't even occur to me that I had a mobile with which I could call emergency services. None of the other kids thought about it, either.

Out of nowhere, Davenport, the Elder, appeared next to us. Relief came over me. Here was an adult who cared about Melody. "She won't wake up. I didn't want to move her because I wasn't sure about what kind of injuries she sustained in the fall."

His eyes were filled with worry. He patted my shoulder before focusing on Melody. "Good thinking, mate. Did you see how she landed? Did she hit her head?"

Davenport assessed her for injuries like a trained medic, examining her spine, neck, and skull with his hands before determining Melody was safe to move. She woke up just as we turned her over. Davenport used his blazer as a pillow for her head and smoothed back her hair from her face.

When her eyes opened, she looked at him as though he was the only one in the world who could reassure her, her savior. She called him Ben.

My mood darkened for a moment, and a red haze blurred my vision. She is mine. No. I shook my head mentally to clear my mind of the evil thoughts creeping in. Now was not the time for petty jealousies and male posturing. Intellectually, I recognized what I was feeling. All that mattered right now was Melody and her safety. Someone harmed her. This wasn't some trivial act that could be dismissed as a prank. This was physical assault.

When we reach hospital, Mrs. Plum is there at the A&E waiting for us. She must have been surprised to see me come out of the ambulance with Mrs. Davenport because she stares at me wide-eyed as if she doesn't quite know what to make of me. She is a tall, athletically-built blond woman who is the aesthetic opposite of Melody. But her attention is torn from me when the EMTs take out the stretcher with Melody on it. Mrs. Plum gasps and sways on her feet. Mrs. Davenport rushes to her side.