Chapter 1 FRACTURED NIGHT

"Tell us, where­ is the safe?" he growled, serpent tattoo rippling as he spoke.

The leader seized hold of Nicole's wrist fairly roughly, and he made her stand up with much effort. As soon as she stood up, her chair tipped backward.

Nicole landed sideways on the ground and became caught in the middle; she could straighten out, though.

"I don't-I know!" she stammered.

As Charles staggered forward, one of the other thieves had stepped in front of him and smashed his ribs with the butt of the gun. Stumbling backwards, he struggled to breathe.

The leader of the group pressed a knife into Nicole's throat. The cold steel pressed into her skin. "You have to ask him. Right now."

Nicole's eyes gazed at her father. His face was scared, his hands shaky as he placed them on his ribs, "Dad... please," she whispered.

Charles narrowed his eyes very tightly, "The study. Behind the bookshelf."

Nicole felt the stairs creak and groan under the weight of the leader's boot as he pulled Nicole upstairs. His chain-like grip and pungent breath reeked of whiskey.

When he violently opened the study door, revealing floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with Charles's first edition novels. She could feel her heart palpitating as he shoved her up against the shelf.

"Which one?" he snapped.

Nicole found herself trying to outrun her racing mind, staring at the bookshelf- "To Kill a Mockingbird, 1984," her father's name embossed in gold on each. Her throat tightened. "The Dickens collection. A Tale of Two Cities."

He yanked the books out. Behind it, a small metal safe gleamed.

"Open it."

"I don't know the code!"

The leader took her hand, pressing her fingers on the keypad. "Give it a shot."

She stumbled, tears blurring her vision as she punched in the numbers, 9-7-1-3. Her mother's birthday. With a satisfying click, the safe opened.

As he stuffed a Rolex and diamond pendant into his duffle bag, the robber's eyes shone.

He grabbed Nicole by the arm and glanced over her as she started to go to the door.

"Adorable," he sneered, his thumb grazed against Nicole's cheek.

He led her to her childhood room down the hall. A faded poster of Misty Copeland hung crookedly on the wall, and ballet trophies lined the shelves. Nicole's knees strike the bottom of the bed.

"Please," she breathed. "Just take the jewelry, and leave."

He delivered a backhand. Pain blasted through her jaw. Nicole squeezed backwards, but he caught her ankle, dragging her toward him.

Downstairs, Charles stumbled up on his feet, blood trickling from his split lip, "Nicole!" He yelled.

A robber swung a brass candlestick. It is connected with Charles's temple. He hit it on Charles's head.

Charles folded like a grounded bird with a blood pool on his head.

Sophie screamed and ran to meet him, dropping to her knees. Berry quickly hovered over her mum, shouting "Dad!"

"Towels!" Sophie barked imperiously, pressing her apron to the wound. "Now, Berry!"

Upstairs, the leader froze. Nicole's tears soaked the pillow beneath her. He cursed, jerking away. "You're on your period." He wiped his mouth, disgust twisting his features. "Fuckin' waste of time."

The leader stormed downstairs, his boots leaving muddy prints on the Persian rug. Charles Lay was semi-conscious, while Sophie's hands were filled with his blood.

"Listen close," he huddled across him. "You breathe a word to the cops..." He flicked open a switchblade, pressing it to Charles's throat. "...and I will send your daughters in pieces to you."

A siren blared in the background.

"Boss!" yelled out the robber at the door.

The boss spat on the floor. "Let's go." They slipped out the back door, and the screen slammed shut behind them.

Nicole fell down the stairs in a gown that had come apart. Sophie knelt by Charles, her apron stained red. Berry huddled under the table.

No one spoke. The house was full of silence, with the fridge humming quietly and the grandfather clocks ticking.

Nicole took a seat against the chilly fireplace on the floor. She looked out and saw the blue lights flickering through the curtains and the siren getting louder.

Berry inched closer. Her fingers lightly brushed Nicole's arm. Nicole jumped out of the truck.

"I am sorry," Berry murmured, then.

On the floor, Nicole's eyes landed on shards of broken glass, each piece mirroring the chaos around them. Charles groaned, and Sophie felt his hand twitching in her hold.

Two officers burst through the door, radio chatter crackling in, demanding the ongoing action.

The younger officer hesitated, seeing Charles in Sophie's lap, blood soaking into her floral apron.

"Medics are two minutes out!" the elder officer shouted as he sank to one knee beside them both, "Sir, stay with me. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

Charles's fingers twitched.

"Keys, the car is faster than an ambulance. It is in the garage." Sophie stammered.

She pointed toward the hallway where a set of Mercedes keys rested in a ceramic bowl. The older officer nodded, yelling to his partner, "Gurney is too slow, we'll move him ourselves."

Nicole stood in the entrance, her torn gown falling off one shoulder. The cold air made her skin prickle as the officers half-carried, half-dragged Charles to the silver sedan.

Sophie got behind the wheel. "Nicole, come on!" she called.

Nicole shook her head and backed toward the stairs. "I-I need to change."

Berry pushed her way past and took the SUV keys out of the bowl. "I'll take her," she said to the officer straightforwardly, more together than she felt.

Nicole looked in the mirror upstairs. Her mascara had smeared, and her jaw was developing a bruise. She tore a turtleneck from the dresser and pulled it over her head, then slipped into a pair of jeans. It was wool, and then it scratched across her raw skin.

Berry stood beside the door. "They left without us," she said quietly.

The Mercedes screeched to a stop below the ER awning at St. Mary's Hospital, Sacramento. The nurses moved in a tide of scrubs that were a blur of white and teal.

"Male, late fifties, head trauma, possible skull fracture!" an officer shouted,

"We need a CT scan-now!" Barked one of the nurses as she sprinted with the gurney.

Sophie also started running, and her sandals slapped against the linoleum until one of the residents blocked her. "Wait here." Not unkindly.

The automatic doors sputtered shut.

Sophie walked back and forth in the cold waiting room, Charles's blood now dried in crescents under her fingernails.

The police remained just out of sight, fidgeting with radios.

Then, after 17 minutes, Nicole and Berry arrived, Nicole in a turtleneck that clung to her neck like a breastplate.

"Where is he?" Nicole asked.

Sophie didn't answer. She couldn't take her eyes off the double doors.

The doctor emerged at 10:08 PM, her face a mask of practiced gravity. "Mrs. Perez?"

Sophie stood so fast her chair screeched.

"Your husband has a subdural hematoma-a brain bleed. We were relieved of some pressure, but..." She hesitated. "He's in a coma. The next 48 hours are critical."