“Ambulance is on its way,” Carter announces as he comes up to us, phone still in his hand. Sebastian nods, not happy that our mess will be now made public but understanding that we need to do what is right.

I haven’t moved from my position. My hands, now tainted red, remain on Little Red’s body as the doctors continue to administer medication and take her vitals. He face is growing paler, with little splatters of red like freckles across her cheeks, and I wipe them away with my thumb.

“Fuck, Annie, hang on. Please just fucking hang on,” I beg her, and I hear Leo whimpering beside me. He has seen so much, this little boy of mine, and the guilt I carry for his life being exposed to this shit builds inside of me daily. He has seen more in his young lifetime than many see in decades. How he will get over this, I have no idea.

For his own mother to walk in and fire her gun at a woman who was protecting her own son… my brain is incapable of understanding any of it right now as I continue to beg Annie to stay with us.

Annie’s body starts to convulse as she coughs a little before her eyes open into small slits.

“Dante?” she whispers out.

“I’m here, Little Red. Don't worry, you’re going to be okay. Everything will be okay,” I say as I kiss her forehead, my voice falling onto her skin as I try to believe it myself.

“Leo?” she asks about my son, even now as her body lays broken, and he rushes to her, burying his head into her shoulder.

“Annie?” Leo says again, sobbing into her shoulder, asking her in his own way if she is okay.

“It’s okay, Leo,” she whispers to him. “It is all okay.” She’s giving him the support he needs, her continued thoughts of others during this time astounding me.

“Ambulance is here, Dante. You need to move to the side,” the doctor says to me as paramedics fill the room with their stretcher. But I don’t want to move. I am too scared to move my hands for fear she will leave me.

“Dante! Move!” Sebastian yells at me, trying to shock me from my haze, and it works. I lean back and remove my hands, looking at Little Red as her eyes close again the minute my hands leave her body. A small smile stays on her lips as she falls unconscious from the blood loss.

“Red?” I say to her, already knowing that she is out but hoping that she comes back to me. I stand back as the medics take care of her, feeling useless and extreme shame and responsibility that this happened to her, in my house, by the hand of my ex-wife.