couldn’t get the words out. Instead she simply nodded. When she heard her son’s little voice babbling enthusiastically to the officers, she cleared her throat and attempted to speak. “Dominic, honey, I need to talk to these officers. Boring grown-up stuff. Will you wait for me inside, please?”
“Aw, Mommy!”
“Dominic. Wait inside.” She wasn’t sure how she had sounded when she said this, but it must have been obvious she meant business because Dominic was retreating into the house. Slowly and deliberately, she turned back to the police officers. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was still arid. She just stared at them, wanting them to tell her what this visit was about but somehow not wanting to hear it.
“Mrs. Bittman,” one of them began, “Your husband arrived at Peace General Medical Center in Portland a short while ago.”
“What?” Reese wasn’t sure if that was a shout or a whisper. It felt like both.
“He’s currently being treated, but he’s in critical condition. It’s advisable for you to get there as soon as you can.”
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