บท 92: Mommy's Boy

ELIJAH'S POV

The lamp slipped from my grasp, clattering to the floor as I scrambled backward. My eyes were fixed on Dad's chest, willing it to rise and fall. It didn't move.

"No, no, no," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

I lurched to my feet, nearly tripping over myself as I rushed to the door. My trembling hands fumbled with the lock, twisting it until I heard the satisfying click. Safe. We were safe now, weren't we?

But from what?

I turned back to face Dad's motionless form on the floor. The reality of the situation hit me like a punch to the gut, and I found myself muttering, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," over and over as I dropped to my knees beside him.

My hands shook as I placed them on his chest, interlocking my fingers the way I'd seen CPR done before. Imogen had taught me them once as well. I started compressions, counting under my breath, "One, two, three, four..."