SLOANE
I couldn't breathe. I genuinely could not pull a single full breath into my lungs because my son was lying in Ronan's arms not moving, not crying, not doing anything that a healthy five-year-old should be doing at this hour. Cade was always loud in the mornings, always the first one up and running through the hallways demanding breakfast and cartoons and attention. The silence coming from him right now was the most terrifying sound I'd ever heard in my life.
"Give him to me!" I screamed, my hands reaching out and grabbing at Ronan's jacket, trying to pull Cade away from him. "Give me my son right now, give him to me, why isn't he moving, WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?"
Ronan looked wrecked, his dark eyes hollow and his face drawn tight, but I didn't care what he looked like, didn't care
