"My six-year-old nephew dragged his broken leg across seven blocks of pavement to reach my porch, with his starving three-year-old sister clinging to his shirt.

Peter reached the hospital before the elevators stopped moving.

He ran through the lobby, nearly colliding with a security officer, and took the stairs two at a time. Every nightmare he had refused to imagine flashed through his head.

Drew alone in a hospital bed.

Lily too weak to scream.

Keller entering with a syringe and a calm explanation.

The pediatric floor had been locked down. Nurses stood behind the station while two security guards searched rooms.

“Where are they?” Peter shouted.

A nurse pointed toward the treatment wing.

“Room twelve.”

Peter pushed through the door.

Lily was crying.

Drew had dragged himself halfway out of bed despite the metal brace stabilizing his leg. He held a plastic water pitcher above his head like a weapon.

A man in blue scrubs stood beside the IV pole.

Dr. Simon Keller.

Keller looked older than Peter remembered. His blond hair had thinned, and sweat darkened the collar of his scrubs. In one hand, he held a syringe.

“Put it down,” Peter said.

Keller turned.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Peter crossed the room before Keller could move.

He struck Keller’s wrist against the bedrail. The syringe fell. Keller drove a shoulder into Peter’s chest, sending him into the wall.

Lily screamed.

Drew hurled the water pitcher.

It struck Keller’s face, distracting him long enough for Peter to tackle him. They crashed into a rolling tray, scattering gauze and instruments across the floor.

Keller clawed for the fallen syringe.

Peter grabbed his arm.

“You poisoned my brother.”

Keller’s expression changed.

Not guilt.

Fear.

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“Tell me where Reena is.”

Keller twisted free and reached beneath his scrub top.

Peter saw the handle of a knife.

Before Keller could pull it, Detective Velez entered with her weapon drawn.

“Hands!”

Keller froze.

“Hands where I can see them!”

He slowly raised them.

A security guard forced him against the wall and removed the knife. Another officer placed him in handcuffs.

Mara crouched beside the syringe without touching it.

“What’s inside?”

Keller smiled.

“Medication.”

“For what?”

“Ask the uncle. He attacked a physician treating two sick children.”

“You are not their physician.”

“I received a request for consultation.”

“From whom?”

Keller looked toward Drew.

The boy recoiled.

Peter moved between them.

“Don’t look at him.”

Keller’s smile disappeared.

Mara ordered an officer to remove him.

As he passed Peter, Keller whispered, “Aaron should have kept his mouth shut.”

Peter lunged, but Mara caught his shoulder.

“Don’t give him what he wants.”

Keller was taken downstairs.

The syringe was sent for immediate analysis. Within an hour, preliminary testing identified concentrated potassium chloride. Injected quickly, it could stop a heart while resembling a natural cardiac event if no one looked closely.

Exactly how Aaron had died.

Drew’s surgery was delayed while the hospital checked every medication and staff credential connected to his case.

Lily refused to release Peter’s shirt.

He sat between their beds, one hand holding hers and the other resting near Drew’s shoulder.

“You hit him,” Drew said.

“I stopped him.”

“Reena says hitting is always bad.”

“Hurting someone because you are angry is wrong. Stopping someone from hurting a child is different.”

Drew considered this.

“Did Daddy stop bad people?”

“Yes.”

“Did they kill him?”

Peter looked at the small boy.

Children deserved truth, but not all truth at once.

“Your father found out that some people were doing terrible things. He tried to expose them.”

“Did he leave us?”

“No.” Peter’s voice broke. “He never left you. He was trying to protect you until the end.”

Drew looked toward Lily.

“Reena said he didn’t want us.”

“Reena lied.”

“All the time?”

“About many things.”

Drew’s eyes filled.

“Did she lie when she said you wouldn’t come?”

Peter could not answer immediately.

Because that lie contained a painful piece of truth.

Peter had stopped coming.

He had accepted the closed doors.

“I should have kept trying,” he said. “I should have found another way.”

Drew’s chin trembled.

“But you came when I got to your porch.”

“I did.”

“Will you come every time now?”

Peter leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Drew’s.

“Every time.”

Mara returned that evening.

“Keller is asking for a lawyer. He claims Reena manipulated him.”

“Do you believe him?”

“No.”

“Did he say where she is?”

“Not yet.”

Mara handed Peter a copy of a custody petition.

“Child protective services will seek emergency placement tomorrow. You are the nearest living relative.”

“You think they’ll give them to me?”

“They will investigate your home, finances, history, and ability to care for two traumatized children.”

“My record.”

“The old assault charge will be considered.”

“I was protecting Aaron.”

“I know. But the court will only see what can be proven.”

Peter looked at the children.

“I’ll do whatever they ask.”

Mara hesitated.

“There’s another complication.”

“What?”

“Reena filed a report this morning before disappearing.”

“Against me?”

“She claimed you had been stalking her family for months. She also claimed Aaron once told her you were unstable and obsessed with taking his children.”

Peter stared at her.

“She prepared this.”

“For a long time.”

“Will it work?”

“It might create doubt.”

Before Peter could respond, Mara’s phone rang.

She stepped into the hallway, spoke briefly, then returned.

Her expression was grave.

“Keller’s car was found in the hospital garage.”

“And?”

“There was blood in the trunk.”

“Whose?”