She took a shaky breath, her hands clenched into fists so tight her knuckles turned white.
“My dad… he’s yelling. He’s hurting my mom,” she said. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added the words that made Carter’s stomach drop. “He has a knife.”
That was all it took.
Within seconds, the station snapped into motion. Radios crackled. Boots hit the floor. Officer Lopez grabbed the keys, and Carter scooped Lily into his arms, wrapping her in a dry jacket as they moved.
“Address?” the dispatcher asked.
“Birch Street. Number 214,” Lily answered before anyone else could.
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