Chapter 5 - The Suffocated Cry
Two young officers moved in unison.
Their utility belts clinked against their hips as they jogged to the edge of the driveway.
One of them holstered his flashlight.
He grabbed the heavy plastic handle of the trash bin.
He threw the lid back.
The plastic hinge groaned loudly in the quiet street.
The other officer aimed his beam straight down into the darkness.
The circle of light hit a pile of black bags.
Resting on top of them was a crumpled mass of pink fleece.
For a second, the pink fabric was perfectly still.
Then, a tiny, jerky movement shifted the folds.
A sound pierced the cold air.
It wasn’t a loud wail.
It was a thin, raspy, suffocated gasp that built into a sharp, vibrating cry.
The officer dropped his flashlight into the grass.
He reached down with both hands, his thick fingers moving with frantic, terrified gentleness.
He pulled the pink bundle up into the flashing red and blue lights.
The baby’s face was red, fists curled tight, thrashing against the cold air.
Clara’s knees buckled.
She hit the wet asphalt hard, tearing the skin on her shins.
She didn't feel it.
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She scrambled forward on all fours, her fingers scraping against the rough ground.
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