Paramedics arrived moments later. They began checking her vitals while the officers escorted Sierra and my father outside. Neither of them said a word as they were led away. I stood in the doorway, watching them go. There was no yelling, no more excuses. Just silence.
Jake wrapped his arm around me. «They will face charges. The documents, the meds, everything. There is more than enough evidence.» I nodded, watching the police lights fade as they pulled away.
Later that night, Grandma was taken to the hospital for observation. I rode with her in the ambulance. She held my hand the entire way and refused to let go until the nurse settled her into a hospital bed. «I thought I was alone,» she whispered.
«You never were,» I said, smoothing her hair. «Not for a second.»
Back at the hotel, Jake and I sat quietly on the edge of the bed. No TV. No music. Just the heavy silence of the aftermath.
«You did good,» he said finally.
«So did you,» I replied. And for the first time in a very long time, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years. Not just relief, but a profound sense of peace.