Bradley seemed taken aback for a moment, then quickly adopted an expression of disappointment toward me.
“A cat that dares to scratch a person is out of control. What right do you have to berate Sara? She’s just teaching our useless son how to care for a cat!”
Suddenly, I heard sounds.
My son was dragging himself toward me, sweat pouring down his forehead as he struggled to breathe.
“Please, Dad, don’t hit Mom!”
I immediately realized that his breathing was becoming frantic again.
My eyes burned with tears as I ignored the pain in my face and rushed to help him cover his mouth and nose.
Bradley seized my shoulder, disrupting me.
“What on earth is going on? This is completely unacceptable?! Stand up! Right now!”
“Stop making it worse!”
How absurd it was; my son had battled depression for years, and he didn’t even recognize the basic symptoms.
I tried to push him away, but he yanked me hard to the ground, causing pain to shoot through my tailbone.
“Are you deaf or something?” he shouted, exasperated.
My mind was consumed with thoughts of how to save my son.
I noticed a bag of cat food under the couch, as if Toby were protecting him.
My heart ached, and I quickly lunged for the bag.
But Sarah’s delicate white leg appeared in front of me, blocking my way.
She bent down, exclaiming sweetly, “Is Alison mentally ill?! Get up; I’ll help you…”
I wasn’t falling for that!
I bit down hard on her calf.
My son’s breathing quickened, his voice tinged with tears.
“Mom—”
Seeing his precious first love injured, Bradley began to kick me in the back with increasing fury.
I paid no attention to the pain as I crawled forward, grabbing the plastic bag to cover my son’s mouth.
Bradley froze. “Are you trying to kill our son?!”
I felt nothing but sorrow.
I had traveled for work countless times, yet Bradley had never once taken emergency measures.
How many times had my son managed to fend for himself?
Shakily, I rose, holding him close and trying to make my way outside.
Sarah again appeared in front of me, an unwelcome presence.
“Alison, it’s my fault. Let me help you carry your son.”
I broke down and shouted at her, “Get out of my way!”
She acted as if she hadn’t heard me.
“After all, Toby was punished because of me—”
My son covered his ears and let out a piercing scream of despair.
A few seconds later, I lost consciousness.
Sarah instinctively let out a scream.
Bradley’s expression changed drastically as he rushed over to support Sarah, scolding me.
“You know Sara is afraid of loud noises, yet you can’t even control our son’s mouth!”
He shot me a glare and gently patted Sarah’s back, pretending to comfort her.
I gasped for air, feeling as though I might pass out myself.
“Bradley, if you have any sense of decency left, call 911 now. Our son is unconscious!”
He shot me a frustrated look, his voice low and filled with disappointment.
“Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Then he turned back to comfort Sarah.
I managed a faint, bitter smile.
Oh, look at him, having been so adept at handling mental issues. Yet when it came to our son, he suddenly acted as if he had no idea what to do.
Holding my son tightly, I struggled to dial the emergency number with one hand, my fingers cramping painfully.