Darrell
DARRELL
My phone slipped from my trembling hand as the call ended. My world suddenly crashed down around me. I could hardly catch my breath. My chest was tight with fear and sorrow. The emergency room at the University of Chicago had called. Legacy had been shot in the head, and they were urging me to get to the hospital immediately. He was in emergency surgery, but the prognosis wasn’t good.
My legs felt like they would give out beneath me as I rushed through the house, searching for Charon. I couldn't even yell her name. My throat was tight, and my breaths were coming in ragged gasps. Every step was a struggle. My body shook so hard from fear that I could barely walk. My heart ached with the unbearable thought that I was living the moment I had feared since Ri’s death. I was about to lose my son too.
I stumbled down the hall. My vision blurred with unshed tears. Legacy was my boy, my legacy. The idea of losing him was like a knife twisting in my chest, reopening the wound that Ri's death had left. I couldn't bear the thought of burying another child. The pain was too much.
Finally, I heard Charon's singing coming from the kitchen. I stumbled towards it, each step feeling as if it took an eternity. I reached the kitchen door, gripping the frame for support as my legs threatened to buckle.
"Charon," I managed to gasp.
She looked up from whatever she was doing, her eyes immediately widening in alarm at the sight of me. ", what's wrong?" she asked, rushing towards me. I could see the panic rising in her eyes, mirroring my own.
"It's Legacy," I choked out, my voice breaking. "He... he’s been shot. They called from the hospital. He’s in surgery, but they said... T-they… they s-said it doesn’t look good."
Charon’s face blanketed with nothing. She went emotionless. Her expression was stoic as she just looked at me. She just stood there like a statue.
"Charon!” I barked. “We need to go. Get some shoes on," I urged her, my voice shaking with urgency and desperation.
But she just stood there, not moving an inch. "I'm not going to the hospital," she said flatly.
My brows dipped with rage. "What do you mean you're not going? Our son is in surgery! He might not make it!"
"I’m not going." She turned her back to me and walked back to the counter with such ease.
Rage boiled over in my chest, mixing with the fear and sorrow that was already tearing it apart. "Are you serious? You hate him that much? This is our son, Charon. He needs us. How can you just stand there and do nothing?"
She crossed her arms. The stubbornness in her expression was disgusting.
I wanted to shake her out of her apathy. But I didn't have time for this. Every second we wasted was a second that Legacy was fighting for his life without us there.
"Fine," I snapped, my voice hardening. "Stay here. But I’m going to be there for our son. I don't have time for this shit."
Her refusal to go to the hospital had shifted my feelings from crippling sorrow to pure rage. That anger gave me the strength I needed to move, to get to Legacy.
I turned and rushed down the hall and out of the house, slamming the door behind me.