The sight of him by the wrecked car, spinning that story about the brakes failing while my granddaughter Lily was hurt because of him, made my vision go red. He’d been texting, arguing about some stupid fantasy football bet, and ran right through a red light.
I heard the lie clear as day, him trying to look worried while Lily was crying in pain nearby.
Then I saw it, his phone lying near the driver’s door amidst the glass and twisted metal. Picking it up felt like grabbing a snake, but I knew I had to.
Later, seeing those texts pop up on the cracked screen confirmed everything. The casual disregard for Lily’s life, the instant cover-up… it was sickening.
He really thought he could just blame the car and walk away clean. He had no idea who he was dealing with.
His whole career was built on pretending to care about safety, preaching rules he clearly thought didn’t apply to him. That hypocrisy was exactly where I aimed my payback, making sure his lies led directly to his own spectacular, professional crash-and-burn.
The Crack in Everything
The phone vibrated against the polished surface of my desk, an angry buzz disrupting the quiet hum of the insurance office servers. I glanced at the caller ID – Chloe. My daughter never called during work hours unless it was important. A knot tightened in my stomach, a familiar phantom limb ache from years responding to emergencies.
“Chloe? What’s wrong?” I kept my voice level, a skill honed first in speeding ambulances, now in depositions.
“Mom… it’s… there was an accident.” Chloe’s voice trembled, thin and reedy. “Rick and Lily… they were driving home from school…”
Ice water flooded my veins. “Are they okay? Is Lily okay?”
“Lily… Lily’s hurt, Mom. Broken bone, maybe? And Rick… I don’t know, the car’s bad. Rick said the brakes just… failed. Went right through a red light.” Chloe dissolved into ragged sobs. “They’re taking Lily to St. Michael’s.”
Brakes failed. Rick’s car was barely two years old, meticulously maintained because Rick loved that car. It didn’t add up. But Lily was hurt. Nothing else mattered.
“I’m on my way, honey. St. Michael’s. Tell me exactly where they crashed.” My investigator brain kicked in, overriding the panic. Location, witnesses, conditions – old habits. Chloe stammered out the intersection, a busy one near Lily’s school.
“Okay. I’m leaving now. Call Mark, tell Mark what happened. I’ll meet you at the ER.” I hung up, grabbing my purse and keys, mind already racing ahead, picturing the intersection, the likely impact points. The professional calm was a thin veneer over the grandmother’s terror. Brakes failed. The phrase echoed, discordant and wrong.
The Wreckage
Flashing lights painted the overcast afternoon sky ahead. Police cruisers angled to block traffic, a fire truck stood sentinel, and there, amidst the glittering debris of plastic and glass, was Rick’s sedan. The front end was crumpled like a discarded soda can, accordioned into the driver’s side of a minivan. Steam or smoke wisped from under the buckled hood.
I parked haphazardly, hazard lights flashing, and ran towards the scene, flashing my old EMT credentials at a confused-looking beat cop trying to wave me back behind the tape. “My granddaughter was in that car,” I said, my voice tight.
Paramedics were loading a small figure onto a gurney near an ambulance, Lily. Thank God, conscious, crying, arm held stiffly against her chest. Another crew attended to the minivan driver. And there was Rick, leaning against a police cruiser, looking dazed, a cut on his forehead, talking to an officer.
I reached the ambulance just as they were closing the doors. “Lily-bug!” I called out. Lily’s terrified eyes found mine. “Grandma’s here. I’ll be right behind you at the hospital, okay?” A small, jerky nod was all the reply. The doors shut, the siren wailed, and the ambulance pulled away.
My attention snapped back to Rick. As I walked towards him, something glinted near the driver-side door of the wrecked sedan, lying partially obscured by a deployed airbag. Rick’s phone. Dropped in the chaos, clearly. Without a conscious thought, fueled by adrenaline and a sudden, sharp spike of suspicion, I scooped it up before anyone else noticed. It felt heavy, alien in my hand. I slipped it into my deep coat pocket just as Rick turned, his eyes widening slightly when recognition dawned.
“Joanne! Thank God you’re here. Did you see Lily? The brakes… they just gave out. Nothing I could do.” Rick’s voice was shaky, but his eyes didn’t quite meet mine.