She had been sleeping so peacefully with one of the best dreams she’d had in a while that involved Ridge, a stage, and his turnout pants. The baby monitor resting on the nightstand crackled with static, bringing River fully out of sleep. With a renewed sense of urgency, River swung her legs over the side of the bed and quickly walked toward Delilah’s room. It was rare that the little girl woke during the night. She had only remembered one instance previously and Delilah had been suffering from an ear infection.
The room was lit up with a small pink nightlight and Delilah sat up in her crib, rubbing her eyes with one hand and gripping her teddy bear with the other.
In a hushed voice, River approached the girl and said, “Hey, little one. What are you doing awake? It’s still sleepy time.”
“Mama,” Delilah replied and River’s heart locked up. She knew there was a chance the toddler could confuse her for her mother after a certain amount of time had passed, but she hadn’t expected it so soon. Maybe after a way of watching the little girl grow, but not in just a couple of months. And she absolutely hadn’t anticipated it happening in the middle of the night.
“No, sweetie. I’m your friend River.”
“Mama,” she repeated as she held her arms out for River to lift her out of the crib.
“Alright. I guess you’re awake. Let’s see if we can find something to watch on TV.”
As they were making their way down the hall, River heard a strange noise that had her stopping in place. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she clutched Delilah closer. Something wasn’t right.
She held her breath to listen more intently for anything amiss, but Delilah chose that moment to say, “Mama,” over and over again.
“Shhh, sweetie. I need to-,” River started to say until a crash sounded in the living room. The shattering of glass echoed in the house and River immediately jumped into protective mode. She knew she had already lost the element of surprise by the babbling little girl, so River reached around the corner and flipped on the main lights of the living room and kitchen. River ran into the kitchen with Delilah in her arms, grabbed the large knife in the rack by the fridge, and then dove for the keys sitting on the counter. If she could make it outside, they could get to safety.
River didn’t have time to think or regret that her mobile phone was still charging in Ridge’s room. Taking a second to breathe, River tried to decide if it was safer to stay in the house and wait for the police, but as she peered around the corner into the living room, she saw an object the size of a milk jug fly through the broken window. The small flash of a flame on the end made the decision for her.
Clutching a now crying Delilah tighter against her body, River decided to leave. She ran for the front door, tripping over her own feet in the process, before gripping the knob and yanking it open.
Quickly she glanced to her left and her right, then ran down the porch stairs and across the yard. One of the first things she admired about the properties was the spacious lots, but now she hated the distance to get to the road and safety.
Just as she made it to the large oak tree in the center of Ridge’s yard, a figure came from the shadows. River tried to dart around the person, but with the added weight of Delilah and the knife she gripped in her palm, she couldn’t outmaneuver them.
The person dove toward her like a wide receiver at the same time River plunged her arm forward with the knife. She wasn’t sure if she even made contact as the man, which she determined when he grunted, tackled her and Delilah to the ground. River did her best to protect the child’s small, fragile frame with her arms and body as they fell to the cold solid earth.
Tucking her body into a ball, gripping Delilah in the center, River braced her body for what she knew was coming. A swift kick to her back tore the agonizing scream from her lungs.
“Delilah!” she shouted as loud as she possibly could, leaving her eardrums ringing, as the man reached down and tried to pry the child from River’s arms. There was no way in hell she would let the man take this child.
River kicked the man in the shins repeatedly until he released his hold on Delilah, falling back with his hand clutching the pink teddy bear Ridge’s daughter loved so much.
In the night sky, River couldn’t make out his face, but she could see the anger still swirling in his black eyes. He stomped toward them with the teddy bear tucked into the belt he wore at his waist and kicked her again with all his might trying to collide with her head, but coming in contact with her back again as she curled into the tightest ball she could with Delilah in the center.
The pain was unbearable and as he added a second kick, the blackness began to close in around her. She had to hold on. She had to protect Delilah. She had to keep them safe. But the pull of the darkness was too strong and as River closed her eyes, the wail of Delilah’s cries and the sound of a siren was all she heard.
Prying her eyes open, River couldn’t tell how long she had been out of consciousness. All she knew was that Delilah was still crying safe in her grasp and that the sounds of the sirens were growing louder. Turning her head, River noticed a woman standing three houses down, barely visible if not for the home's post light casting a glow on her. The sound of a rumbling engine drew River’s attention away from the woman and in the other direction where a car with a busted tail light sped away. It was parked too far away for River to get the license plate number.
“Delilah,” her voice squeaked as she tried to calm the scared child.
River’s back was in agonizing pain, but she needed to focus on the little girl and to get her
to safety. Biting her lip, River used one arm to push up from the ground, crying out in pain as she moved. It felt as if each vertebra of her spine were shattered as she sat up.
The lights of the fire engine and police car lit up the neighborhood. Porch lights began to flicker on as residents made their way outside to see what was going on.
The Sheriff of Carson’s car stopped in front of the house first and she recognized Preston as he stepped out of the car. She could see him sniff the air and River suddenly realized the heavy smell of smoke lingering around her. Ridge’s house was on fire.
She turned her head, wincing with the motion, and saw that flames licked up the back of the home.
“Oh, no,” she wallowed, knowing that Ridge was going to be devastated to learn he was losing his house and all of his things.
“River!”
Above the noise of the sirens, he shouted her name. It was loud enough that people the next town over could hear. It was a call of anguish and misery and devastation.