Chapter 6 - The ArrestThe flashing red and blue lights painted the walls of the living room in a chaotic, hypnotic dance.
Cameron hadn't moved. He was still sitting on the kitchen floor, his back pressed against the lower cabinets, staring blankly at the front door.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Heavy, authoritative knocks pounded against the front door.
"Police! Open the door!"
Cameron didn't answer. He couldn't. His vocal cords felt paralyzed, fused together by a mixture of shock, grief, and terror.
The door didn't wait. With a loud, resounding crash, the front door—the same door he had slammed behind him two days ago while his wife bled out on the kitchen tile—was kicked off its hinges, splintering into pieces.
Two uniformed police officers rushed into the house, their flashlights cutting through the dim interior, weapons holstered but hands ready.
"Clear!" one officer yelled.
"Suspect located in the kitchen!" the second officer shouted, rushing over to Cameron and grabbing him roughly by the shoulders.
Before Cameron could even register what was happening, he was hauled roughly to his feet. Cold, heavy steel cuffs snapped around his wrists, biting painfully into his skin.
"Cameron Vance, you have the right to remain silent," the officer recited mechanically, reading him his rights while shoving him face-first against the kitchen counter. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."
"Wait! Please!" Cameron sobbed, his face pressed against the cold granite. "You don't understand! I didn't mean for this to happen! I thought she was just being dramatic! It was my mother's birthday!"
The officer paused for a fraction of a second, a look of profound disgust crossing his face. He shoved Cameron upright and spun him around, guiding him toward the shattered front door.
"Tell it to the judge, pal," the officer muttered, pushing him out into the night air.
As Cameron was shoved into the back of the black-and-white cruiser, a small crowd of neighbors had gathered on the sidewalk, whispering and pointing phones at him. Through the window of the police car, Cameron caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the rearview mirror.
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His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot and hollow, his expensive suit wrinkled and stained. In less than seventy-two hours, he had gone from a successful businessman and a proud, arrogant husband to a ruined, disgraced criminal facing prison time for the death of his own child.
The cruiser doors slammed shut, cutting off the outside world, and the car sped away into the dark.
