Chapter 8: The Wrong Angle

Porter dropped to his knees on the pavement and took Daisy's head in his hands.

"Call an ambulance," he shouted at nobody. "She's pregnant!"

Daisy moaned and curled tighter around her stomach.

He looked up at me, and his face was ugly.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me. I watched you pick up that cake."

"You watched me put it down on your car."

"You were behind her!"

"I was four feet in front of her," I said. "I was facing the other way."

Daisy's moan went up half a note.

Eli stepped forward, and his voice was calm enough to be a threat.

"Mr. Ellsworth. My car has a camera pointed at this curb."

Daisy's moaning stopped.

It stopped for half a second, and Porter heard it stop.

He looked down at her.

Then she cried out again, louder than before.

Porter scooped her off the pavement and carried her to his car.

"I'm taking her to Ellsworth Medical," he said over his shoulder.

"If anything has happened to that baby, Cora, you'll answer for it."

The car door slammed.

The car pulled away so fast the cake box slid off its hood and landed on the road.

Someone drove over it.

I stood on the curb and watched blueberry frosting spread across the asphalt.

"You can breathe," Eli said quietly.

"I am."

"You're gripping your own wrist."

I let go.

In his car, I watched the footage on the little screen in the dashboard.

Daisy fell from standing, alone, with the whole curb in frame.

I was four feet away with my hands empty.

"That's all of it," I said. "That's everything I need."

"I'll have it sent to every station by morning."

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