I grabbed every towel I could find in the emergency bin, wrapped him up, cranked the heat as high as it would go, and called dispatch.
“A child went into the lake. I got him out, but we need help.”
“A child went into the lake. I got him out, but we need help.”
When the deputies arrived, they told me I’d likely saved his life.
I just sat there, nodding, still clutching my work phone from when I’d called earlier.
The phone vibrated in my hand.
There was a message notification.
I opened it, and what I read there made my stomach drop.
The phone vibrated in my hand.
It was a text from an unknown number.
Not too unusual in itself, since parents sometimes use the number displayed on the dash, and we were running late now, but the message wasn’t about that.
It was just one sentence.
The words were unmistakably menacing.
