Chapter 3: Blocked by Betrayal

Just when I thought I’d finally changed our fate... just when I let myself hope... the ambulance suddenly screeched to a halt.

The jolt snapped me out of my thoughts. My teeth rattled. I looked up, heart pounding, and realized something was very wrong.

The person blocking us was Dad’s so-called best friend from way back—Rick Lively. Of course. Who else would it be?

Of all people, it had to be Rick—Dad’s old fishing buddy, the guy who always seemed to be around when things went sideways. His Audi sat sideways across the road, hazard lights flashing. Like he owned the place.

“Uncle Rick! What are you doing? Get out of the way!” I yelled anxiously out the window when I saw who it was. My voice cracked, raw with panic. I leaned out as far as I could, waving my arms, desperate for him to move.

He lounged behind the wheel, sunglasses on, like he didn’t have a care in the world. My blood boiled.

“Can you and your dad not make a scene? Stop the drama, alright? Your mom’s in a rough spot right now. Just do what she says and things will stay peaceful at home.”

His words were casual, almost mocking. Like Dad’s life was just a scene in some soap opera he could tune out of anytime he wanted. I wanted to throw something at him.

“Dad was in a car accident! We need to get him to the hospital!”

I could barely keep my voice steady. The paramedics were getting restless, glancing at their watches, their eyes darting between me and Rick.

Uncle Rick rolled his eyes. “Car accident? Don’t play games. If it’s that serious, why not go to the closest ER? Why haul him all the way to Silver Hollow?”

He sounded like he was talking to a stubborn child, not a desperate son. I wanted to reach through the window and shake him. My hands shook with anger.

“Dad’s really hurt. Only the doctors at Silver Hollow can save him! Uncle Rick, please move, I’m begging you—we’re running out of time!”

My voice cracked on the last word. I could see Dad’s breathing was getting more shallow, his skin pale and clammy. The sense of urgency was suffocating. I could barely breathe.

The ambulance equipment was limited, and Dad’s condition was getting worse. Even his breathing was growing weaker. My heart hammered in my chest.

I watched the heart monitor, the numbers dipping lower. Every second felt like an eternity. My mouth was dry. I felt like I might throw up.

Rick Lively’s face didn’t soften at all. He just shrugged, completely unmoved. I wanted to scream.

“Your mom already called me. She said you and your dad are faking it—trying to force her not to stay with her dying friend. Haven’t you thought about what this will do to your family down the line?”

His words felt like a slap. I couldn’t believe he actually thought we’d fake something like this. My jaw dropped. Was he serious?

“If you don’t believe me, come look for yourself. Dad is really badly hurt!”

I pointed at Dad, willing Rick to see the truth. But he just shook his head, unconvinced.

I was so anxious and nervous my head was spinning and my vision started to go black. My hands went numb. I blinked, trying to stay upright.

Rick still didn’t believe me. “Stop pretending. You think I don’t know? If I get out of the car now, you’ll just have the ambulance drive off.”

He stuck his head out the window, pointing at me, full of righteous anger. His finger jabbed the air, as if he was the one being wronged. The paramedics exchanged looks, muttering under their breath. Unbelievable.

“Why don’t you listen to advice? Kids shouldn’t meddle in grown-up business. I’m your dad’s best friend—would I hurt him?”

Best friend, huh. When Dad wakes up and finds out you deliberately blocked us from getting to the hospital, will he still call you his best friend? The thought stung. I clenched my fists, fighting back tears of frustration.

Finally, one of the paramedics leaned out the window and shouted, “Sir, please move immediately! Our patient is seriously injured and needs emergency treatment!” His voice was sharp, no-nonsense. Rick just scoffed, like he didn’t have to listen to anyone.

Rick glared at them. “You medical staff are so easily bribed to play along—fine. Now that I’ve caught you, you’re still trying to fool me? Which hospital are you from? I’m calling the state health department right now!”

He pulled out his phone, fingers flying across the screen, as if he could make this all go away with a call.

“Uncle Rick? Are you really not going to move?”

I tried one last time, my voice barely above a whisper. But his jaw just set even harder, stubborn as a mule.

He looked determined. “For your family’s sake, I won’t move. Tell your dad to stop pretending and hurry to the next town to buy fireworks for Mason.”

The absurdity of it almost made me laugh. Here we were, fighting for Dad’s life, and Rick was worried about fireworks for a dying man. I could barely process it.

I scoffed and pulled out my phone. My fingers trembled. “Hello, 911? I’m on County Road 14. Someone is deliberately blocking an ambulance and endangering a patient’s life.”

My hands shook as I dialed, but my voice was steady. I gave them our location, the make and model of Rick’s car, every detail I could remember. I wasn’t going to let him get away with this. Not this time.

The police arrived quickly. When Rick was cuffed and his car was moved aside, he was still shouting in disbelief. He couldn’t believe any of this was happening to him.

Even as the officers led him away, Rick kept yelling, his face red with outrage. “What’s wrong with you? They’re faking it! I’m blocking them for the sake of their family! How can you cops arrest people without knowing right from wrong?”

The two officers exchanged glances. “The suspect may need a mental health evaluation. We’ll take him in for assessment first.”

One of them gave me a sympathetic look, as if to say, ‘Sorry about your friend, kid.’ My chest tightened, but I nodded.

I nodded. “I need to get my dad to the hospital. He can’t wait.”

There was no time for explanations. I just wanted to get Dad the help he needed. Every second counted.

The ambulance finally moved on. Looking at Dad’s increasingly pale face, my mind spun. My thoughts were a tangled mess, panic and hope crashing together. I squeezed Dad’s hand, silently begging him to hold on.

In my previous life, because the first hospital didn’t have enough blood, Dad barely held on and was only stabilized after being transferred to Silver Hollow. That’s why I was so determined to come here this time. I knew Dad could survive the trip. But now, with all the time wasted by Rick, could Dad still hold on? I repeated it in my head like a prayer: Just hold on. Please, Dad. Just a little longer.

No one could answer that for me. All I could do was hold Dad’s hand tightly and silently pray. I pressed my forehead to our joined hands, wishing for a miracle.

I whispered a prayer I hadn’t said since I was a kid, hoping someone—anyone—was listening. Please, just this once.

Dad has suffered so much in his life. If Heaven is watching, please give him a little more luck. He deserves it. Just this once.

I squeezed his hand, feeling the calluses from years of hard work. He deserved better than this. I promised myself I’d do anything to save him. Anything.

Just then, my phone rang. It was Mom. The screen lit up, her name burning into my eyes. My heart stuttered. For a split second, hope flickered in my chest. Maybe she’d finally realized how serious things were.

“Could it be that Mom finally believes Dad is really hurt, and she’s calling to check on him?” I wanted to believe it. Even though I knew it was unlikely, I still hoped. Please, let it be true.

I clung to that tiny hope, desperate for some sign she cared. Maybe she’d surprise me. Maybe she’d care after all.

But reality proved I was just being naive. As soon as I picked up, Mom started yelling at me.

Her voice was sharp, impatient. “What are you doing? Didn’t Rick stop you? Mason’s waiting for the fireworks. If you keep stalling, how will you bring them back before dark? You’re not a kid anymore—why can’t you just listen for once? Mason’s in bad shape, and making him happy is important. You get that?”

I didn’t respond. I just hung up. My hand shook as I ended the call. I couldn’t listen to another word.

The anger and disappointment were too much. I pressed the red button, cutting her off mid-rant. I didn’t owe her any more explanations. I felt empty.

Putting the phone back in my pocket, I almost wanted to laugh—laugh at how naive I was two minutes ago, hoping Mom would care about Dad and me after she killed us both. What a joke.

The bitterness burned in my mouth, sharp and electric, nothing like metal—more like acid. I shook my head, forcing myself to focus on Dad. He was the only family I had left.

The ambulance sped into Silver Hollow Regional. The doctors had been notified and were ready. As soon as we arrived, they rushed Dad straight into the operating room. The doors slammed shut, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

The doors swung shut behind him, and I was left alone in the fluorescent-lit hallway, heart pounding. I paced back and forth, every minute stretching into an hour. My shoes squeaked on the linoleum. I couldn’t sit still.

I waited anxiously outside. Every sound made me jump. I kept checking my phone, checking the clock, checking the door. Anything.

I tried to steady my breathing, but my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I watched the clock, counting every second. My thoughts spun in circles. Please, please, let him be okay.