Chapter 2 002. The Accident

The call came at 12:17 a.m.

I was half-asleep on the couch, still wrapped in the same blanket from earlier, with Milo snoring softly beside me. The TV was playing some late-night show I wasn't even watching. My phone buzzed on the coffee table. At first, I ignored it. Probably a spam call or something.

But it buzzed again. Then again.

Something inside me told me to pick up.

"Hello?" My voice was groggy, still heavy from sleep.

"Is this Leona Cruz?" the voice on the other end asked. It was a man. Calm, but not casual. Serious.

"Yes... who's this?"

"I'm Officer Raymond from the city police department. I'm sorry to bother you this late, but we need you to come to Saint Claire's Hospital. Your husband, Harryson Cruz, was in a car accident."

I sat up straight. My heart stopped. "Wait-what? What kind of accident? Is he okay?"

"There was a crash, ma'am. He's alive. Paramedics brought him in around midnight. You should come as soon as you can."

My hand was shaking. "How bad is it?"

The officer paused. That pause told me more than words could. "The doctors will explain everything once you arrive."

And that was it.

He hung up after giving me directions.

I stood there for a few seconds, not moving. Just... frozen.

Then everything hit me all at once. Fear. Confusion. Panic. I grabbed my coat and shoes, called Milo's sitter to pick him up, and rushed out the door.

The ride to the hospital was a blur. I don't even remember if I stopped at red lights. The streets were empty and quiet, but inside me, it felt like a storm was going off.

I kept thinking: This doesn't make sense. He was just supposed to be on a business trip. He said he'd be home by now.

And then-something even stranger.

The officer had said "a crash". Not where. Not how. And no other details.

When I got to Saint Claire's, it was cold and too bright. Hospitals always feel like that. Like they're trying too hard to be calm places, but everyone inside is either scared, hurting, or waiting for bad news.

A nurse led me down a long hallway and into a waiting room that smelled like antiseptic and old coffee.

Officer Raymond was already there. He stood when I walked in. Tall, clean-shaven, young. His face was tight, like he was holding something back.

"Mrs. Cruz," he said. "Thanks for coming."

"Where is he?" I asked. "Can I see him?"

"He's still being checked by the doctors," the officer said. "They're running tests."

My stomach turned. "What happened?"

"We got a call about a single-car crash near Riverbend Bridge. The vehicle flipped after swerving off the road. It looks like he lost control."

I blinked. "Lost control? Harryson's a careful driver."

"I understand," he said. "But here's the thing... witnesses say they saw another man near the scene. A masked man. He ran off before anyone could stop him."

That made my blood run cold.

"A masked man? You think someone ran him off the road?"

"We don't know for sure yet. Could've been a robbery. Could've been someone trying to hurt him. We're checking traffic cameras and nearby businesses. But the man wore all black, face covered. It's suspicious."

I sat down, my legs weak. "So this wasn't an accident."

"We're not ruling anything out," he said carefully. "But if someone was involved... we'll find them."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. My head was spinning.

A few minutes later, a doctor walked in. He looked tired, like she'd been working all night. His eyes were kind, but his face was unreadable.

"Mrs. Cruz?"

"Yes. Is my husband okay? Can I see him?"

He nodded slowly. "You can, but he's unconscious right now. He hasn't woken up since the paramedics brought him in."

I stood up. "But he's alive, right?"

"Yes," she said. "He's stable. But there's some trauma to the head. A concussion. Possibly more. We're doing scans to be sure. He also has some broken ribs and bruises. There's swelling near the base of the skull."

I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"What does that mean? Will he wake up?"

"We're hopeful. But brain injuries are unpredictable. He may wake up soon... or it could take time."

That word-unpredictable-stabbed me in the chest.

He led me to his room.

The hallway was quiet. Just the soft beeping of machines and the hum of lights above. I wasn't ready to see him like that. I didn't want to believe this was real.

But when the doctor opened the door, and I stepped inside, everything hit me like a punch.

Harryson lay there, hooked up to wires and tubes, pale against the white sheets. His head was bandaged, his face had a cut near the temple, and his lips were cracked. His chest rose and fell slowly, helped by a machine. He looked nothing like the strong, confident man I knew. He looked... broken.

I walked to his side and grabbed his hand.

It was warm.

"Hey," I whispered, tears falling before I could stop them. "I'm here. I came as fast as I could."

He didn't move. Didn't blink. Nothing.

I leaned in close. "You promised me you'd come back. You said it'd be a short trip. This... this isn't what you meant."

The machines beeped steadily. That sound should've been comforting. But it only made me more afraid.

Officer Raymond stepped in again, standing quietly in the corner. "Do you know of anyone who'd want to hurt him?" he asked softly. "Any threats? Enemies?"

I shook my head. "He's a private investigator. He's dealt with some angry people, sure. But nothing serious. Nothing like this."

"Was he working on anything big?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "He said it was just a simple case out of town. He didn't give details."

Raymond frowned. "We'll need access to his office. In case there's something in his files."

I didn't argue. I just nodded.

I looked back at Harryson.

"I need him to wake up," I said quietly. "He's the only one who can tell us what happened."

The officer left to make a call. The doctor said they'd keep monitoring him and left, too.

So it was just me and him again.

I pulled the chair closer and held his hand tight. My thoughts were racing, but my heart just kept whispering the same thing over and over.

Please come back to me. Please come back.

I stayed there for hours.

Sometimes I talked to him. Told him about Milo. About how I burned toast that morning. About how I made his favorite dinner and left it on the stove like a fool.

Other times, I just sat there in silence.

Watching.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Because now, the puzzle of our life wasn't fitting together so easily anymore. A masked man, a crash, no answers. And the person who knew the truth...

Was lying right in front of me.

Unconscious.

And silent.