Page 107 of One More Chance
And how fitting would it be, if this were how my second chance ended?
Gunfire. Three sharp, echoing pops.
Her body jerked with each shot. Blood bloomed across her chest, and she stumbled back, her expression morphing into stunned confusion. She dropped to her knees. Her once-empty gaze, now filled to bursting from an unlived life of regrets, locked onto mine. Time snapped back into motion.
Radio static. Officers shouting.
Angie lay sprawled on the concrete, the gun kicked far from her outstretched fingers. One officer screamed for a medic, kneeling beside her as the others secured the scene.
I backed away, arms wrapped around myself. Detective Harlan was beside me, solid and steady, his presence the only thing keeping me grounded. I realized he'd been the one who pulled me to the ground.
“Come on, Levi. Let’s get you away from here.”
Later, I sat in the back of an ambulance, the coarse wool of a blanket scratching against my neck, the weight of it both comforting and suffocating. A styrofoam cup sat between my palms, its heat seeping into my frozen fingers, the faint scent of burnt coffee cutting through the metallic tang of blood.
I fixated on the steam rising from the cup, thin, wavering threads that disappeared into the cold night air. Sirens howled in the distance, sharp and rising, but underneath them, I could still hear it; the phantom snap of gunfire, reverberating through my bones.
Detective Harlan sat beside, both of us silent for a time.
With as much sarcasm as I could muster, which wasn't much at that moment, I said, "Thought you boys were waiting for Christmas with how long it took you to show up. You get lost on the way?"
Harlan laughed at that, deep and hearty. "As a matter of fact, we were exactly where you told us to be… which was not here, Levi."
And that was when I discovered I'd texted him the wrong address.
That particular park was massive, with multiple entrances, playgrounds, parking lots… restrooms. I'd texted Harlan the address for the main entrance, which was on the other side of the lake. The police had been set up and waiting over there the entire time.
When I asked him how he'd found me, my heart swelled and I nearly cried in front of him.
Harlan said, "I did the sensible thing any good detective would do when looking for a missing man; I called your wife. One hell of awoman you have, Levi. You're damned fortunate she keeps a GPS tracker on your phone."
"Yeah," I said as I nodded, "she's the best."
The best?
The only. Sloane had saved my life tonight without even trying or realizing it.
Then again, in a way, Sloane had saved my life every night.
Chapter 36
The days that followed were quiet in the way only devastation can be. The virus still choked the world like smoke, its presence a constant shadow. Despite the global panic, most businesses reopened, forcing employees to venture out from the safety of quarantine. There was a divide among the people; a threat of class warfare. Anger swelled within those who were considered essential workers as they decried how disposable they felt. Nurses, delivery drivers, janitors… all pushed to the brink while CEOs posted “we’re in this together” from their lakeside homes. Frayed systems, shattered trust, and a fractured society struggling to remember what it meant to be human… if it ever had been.
And in the midst of all that chaos, life kept moving.
The new addition on the way was something we clung to at home; hope wrapped in something small and growing. Violet, ever the curious one, had a million questions: Did the baby sleep in your tummy? Could it hear us? Was it hungry? She tried talking to the bump like she already knew her little sister.
Liam, on the other hand, was coolly detached. He was older, more practical. He remembered what it had been like when Violet was born. The disrupted sleep, the crying, plus the way our attention shifted. His indifference wasn’t cruelty; it was survival. I understood that.
Through it all, I did my best to stay grounded. To not let the fear or the guilt or the noise outside our walls pull me under. The shutdown meant most things were remote now, including the doctor appointments. That alone stirred quiet resentment in me.
Fuck, another thing the pandemic stole from us.
For the ultrasound, the doctor's office would only allow the mother to attend. I was devastated. When Sloane walked through that door afterward, holding the envelope with the sonogram inside, my heart ached in my chest like it had been carved hollow. She handed me the picture with a small smile and I held it like it was made of glass.
Our baby. Amber. A name we’d picked out together in one of those rare soft moments, curled up in bed. I stared at that blurry grayscale image like it was proof that maybe, just maybe, I was capable of changing this life's future.
I should’ve been there. I should’ve seen her face when she first saw Amber, when she heard our daughter’s heartbeat thumping like a little drum of hope.
