Chapter 3 - Red and Blue Lights
The grand entrance of my estate was flooded with flashing red and blue strobe lights, transforming the pristine white stucco exterior into a chaotic, pulsing crime scene. Four black-and-white cruisers sat angled across the circular driveway, their engines idling, while a paramedic unit pulled up behind them with tires screeching.
Two uniformed officers rushed up the front steps, their hands resting cautiously on their sidearms.
“Mr. Sterling?” the lead officer, a burly veteran with a silver crew cut, called out as I kicked open the heavy front doors. “We got a report of an active burglary and assault.”
“I’m Thane Sterling,” I said, stepping onto the porch. “My wife is injured. She’s twelve weeks pregnant and has suffered physical trauma to the head and torso.”
The paramedics didn't wait for an order. They swarmed up the steps with a stretcher, their boots clicking loudly against the flagstone.
“Thane... don't leave me,” Alora whimpered, her hands clutching the lapels of my coat with white-knuckled desperation as the medics tried to take her.
“I’m right here, Alora. I’m not going anywhere,” I said softly, accompanying the stretcher down the steps. I kept my hand wrapped firmly around hers as they laid her on the gurney and began checking her vital signs.
“Pulse is elevated, blood pressure is 150 over 95,” the younger paramedic reported briskly, shining a penlight into Alora’s eyes. “Pupils are equal and reactive, but she’s exhibiting signs of acute shock. We need to transport her to Santa Monica Medical Center immediately to perform an ultrasound and check fetal heart tones.”
“I’m coming with you,” I said instantly.
“Sir,” the lead police officer interrupted, stepping between me and the ambulance doors. “We need you to identify the suspects inside. Are they still on the premises?”
Before I could answer, a piercing shriek echoed from the second-floor balcony of the estate.
“Officer! Officer, help us!” Corrine shouted, leaning over the stone balustrade, her hair wildly disheveled, her hands dramatically raised. “We’re trapped up here! My son has lost his mind! He’s armed and he threatened to murder us!”
Sloan ran out onto the balcony behind her, holding her wrist, sobbing loudly for the benefit of the four officers on the driveway. “He locked the doors! He’s trying to frame us! Check his wife—she’s the one who attacked us!”
The officers immediately shifted their footing, their hands dropping to their holsters as they looked between me and the balcony.
“Sir,” the lead officer said, his tone instantly hardening as he took a step back from me. “I need you to keep your hands where I can see them. What’s going on here?”
I didn't get angry. I didn't raise my voice. I pulled my phone from my pocket using two fingers, unlocked the screen, and handed it directly to the lead officer.
“I am the sole owner of this property,” I said calmly. “My wife and I were the only legal occupants tonight. The two women on that balcony breached my home, destroyed my property, and assaulted my wife. That phone contains four minutes of unedited 4K video recording the entire incident from start to finish, including their explicit confessions.”
The lead officer frowned, taking the phone. He tapped the play button.
The quiet night air was instantly filled with the crystal-clear audio of Corrine’s voice booming from the phone’s high-end speakers: “Cry louder, you pathetic wretch! Your husband is on a flight to Tokyo. No one is coming! What is the safe passcode?”
Then came the loud, sickening crack of Corrine slapping Alora across the face, followed by Sloan’s manic voice: “Make her talk, Mom! Hurry up! Tomorrow morning, we transfer the deeds into our names!”
The three other officers gathered around the screen, their expressions turning from professional caution to absolute, visceral disgust within ten seconds.
The lead officer paused the video, handed the phone back to me with meticulous care, and unclipped the heavy leather taser holster from his belt.
“Officer Miller, Officer Davis,” the lead officer snapped, his voice cold as steel as he looked up at the balcony. “Breach the front door. Suspects are non-compliant, armed with heavy tools, and actively attempting to conceal a violent felony. Take them down.”
“Wait!” Corrine screamed from the balcony as she realized the officers weren't moving toward me. “What are you doing?! I am Corrine Sterling! I am his mother!”
“I don't care if you're the Queen of England, lady,” Officer Miller barked, drawing his sidearm as he marched up the steps. “You have five seconds to come down with your hands up, or we’re coming up there with K-9 units!”
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I turned my back on the circus, stepping into the back of the ambulance alongside Alora.
I took her cold, shaking hand in mine, kissing her knuckles as the paramedic slammed the rear doors shut. The ambulance pulled away, its sirens screaming into the night, leaving my former family to face the storm they had built with their own hands.
