“What the hell do you mean his condition’s deteriorated?” Lacey demanded from the back seat. “You said he was fine. How can he have got, ‘racing-through-town with-the-sirens-going, sick in a couple of hours?”

“I don’t know. You know as much as I do.”

“What precisely did they say?” Adam demanded.

“I don’t know. Acute something. Respiratory arrest. I wasn’t listening by then. I just wanted to get over there.”

“And they told you earlier it was just a chest infection?”

“Yes?”

“Not pneumonia? Pleurisy?”

“No. The doctor said they were giving him IV antibiotics for 24 hours to cover all bases, but it was probably a simple virus and would fix itself in a couple of days.”

“Hmm.”

Frank glanced in the mirror. Adam was chewing on the inside of his cheek. Frank knew that expression. He was thinking deeply about something.

“Do you know what kind of sedation they’re using?”

“No. Why?”

“Opiates suppress respiration. But it shouldn’t have got this bad this fast. Unless….”

“Unless what?” An uneasy prickle at the back of Frank's neck caused his heart to flutter.

“Unless they gave him too much.”

“Accidentally?”

“Unlikely.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. He couldn’t have. Not right under the nose of the doctors, the nurses, CID….”

“It would be the perfect crime. Respiratory distress in a sedated patient with breathing problems is not unusual. It's rarely fatal but tests would be unlikely to pick up anything unusual if the sedative was fast acting. Evidence of sedation in a sedated patient is hardly unexpected. Chances are it wouldn’t ring any bells.”

“What can we do?”

“Give me the phone. Even if this was deliberate, they can't have given him a massive overdose or he’d be dead already. My guess is they’ve added additional sedatives to the IV bag. They need to stop that as soon as—”Adam broke off when he was connected to the hospital.

Thirty seconds later, Frank was shouting into his phone. “Idiots,” he yelled and disconnected the call. He immediately dialled the number he’d been given for the CID officer in charge of security at the hospital. Another minute and he was back on the road.

Negotiating the heavy traffic, Frank let out a stream of expletives that resulted in shocked silence from the others. 

“Dad,” Adam said, at last. “You can’t blame the nurses for refusing to administer treatment to a dangerously ill patient on the say so of a complete stranger, who isn’t even present in the hospital.”

“If anything happens to my son because of that…that smug….”

“Dad, you can’t—”

When Tchaikovsky began to play, Adam grabbed the phone before Frank could reach it,.

“Well?” Frank demanded when the call ended.

“They’ve stopped the sedation and started him on an opiate antidote. If there’s an improvement by the time we get there, we’ll know.”

Frank shook his head. “We’ll know someone over-medicated, not necessarily that someone tried to kill him.”

“True, but CID have pulled the CCTV footage of the corridor outside his room, and are questioning all staff who’ve been anywhere near it. Until proved otherwise they’re treating it as an attempted murder enquiry.”

“Good man.”

Although they were only a few miles from the hospital as the crow flies, weaving through the traffic of a busy city took time, even with the siren. It was 20 minutes before they arrived. They were met by DCI Herbert himself.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” he began, causing Frank’s heart to fall into his boots. “I don’t know how it happened under our noses. There’s no doubt, I’m afraid. There was definitely a deliberate attempt on his life. The dosage of sedative in the IV bag was four times that prescribed and written up in the notes. If you hadn’t called when you did it would have killed him before you got here.”

“Is he…?”

“They’ve given him the antidote and he’s stabilized. You should speak to the doctor for more information.”

“What have you found?” As concerned as he was for Sacha, Frank just couldn’t stop being a detective.

“Precious little. We’ve viewed the CCTV but there are people coming and going all the time. Even the bloody tea lady put her head round the door.”

“Have you printed off the pictures? Maybe Sacha will recognise someone.”

“Already done and waiting.”

Frank nodded.

The others had already disappeared into Sacha’s room, but Frank was strangely reluctant. He felt helpless and that didn’t sit well with him. He’d let his son down for the second time and had almost lost him again.

“Mr Prosser?”

It took a moment to realize a doctor was speaking to him.

“I’m sorry, I was…. What’s the news?”

“I’m very sorry, Mr Prosser, I have no explanations for you. I’ve no idea how it can have happened; how someone could have—”

“I’m not interested in how it happened right now. Other people are looking into that. I’m interested in my son.”

“Of course. It was touch and go for a while. We almost lost him, but once we stopped the sedation and administered the antidote he stabilized quickly. I’m confident there won’t be any long-term effects.”

“He’s going to be okay?”

“Fine. We intubated him after the arrest but he’s breathing on his own now and his blood oxygen levels are almost normal. He hasn’t woken yet, but it should be anytime now. He’ll be very confused for a while but in a couple of hours he’ll be fine. I’d like to keep him here for another day, just to monitor things, but if everything goes well you can take him home Friday, pending the psych assessment, of course.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

With a lighter heart, Frank followed his children into Sacha’s room, nodding at the police officer on the door as he did so.

They were gathered around the bed, staring. Of course, Adam hadn’t seen his brother yet. No wonder he had that expression on his face.

“Dad.” Lacey’s urgent call broke his thoughts. She was gesturing wildly and he hurried to her side.

“What’s the matter?”

“He’s waking up and you’re the only one he knows. He might freak out if he woke up in a room full of strangers.”

Frank laid a hand on her shoulder, unable to speak. That was exactly what her mother would have said.

He sank onto the hard bench next to her.

Sacha coughed and moaned, rolling his head on the pillow. Lacey leaned over and stroked his forehead, freeing strands of his hair that were caught under the oxygen mask. He turned into her hand and moaned again.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Take your time. You’re safe now. We’re all here. Your family.”

Sacha’s breath hitched and he coughed again. His forehead creased and he smacked his lips, bringing on another cough. Frank all but held his breath as Sacha’s eyelids flickered. Sacha whimpered and opened sticky eyes to blink up at Frank. He frowned sleepily for a moment, then his eyes widened and he sat up, tearing off the oxygen mask. He looked terrified.

“Easy, son. You’re in hospital but you’re alright. You remember me, right?”

Sacha drew up his legs and backed against the headboard, hugging his knees. His eyes flicked from face to face, huge and golden in his pale, pinched face.

“Sacha?” Lacey’s gentle voice drew his attention. When she smiled, he ghosted it. “I’m Lacey, your sister. You’ve no idea how glad I am to meet you.”

Sacha’s frown was strained. He seemed about to burst into tears. Lacey reached out to him as if she was approaching a skittish wild animal. At first, he shrank away, but gradually he relaxed and let her touch his shoulder then slide her hand down his arm to link their fingers. All the while, his eyes searched her face. Frank wondered what he was looking for.

“There. See? I’m not going to hurt you. You’re my brother and I love you.”

Sacha shook his head and pulled his hand away. “No,” he whispered hoarsely. “Please.” 

“I think all this is too much, Lace,” Adam said quietly. “Let’s just leave him with Dad for a while.”

“But—”

“Just for a bit. Come on.”

Not allowing any protests, Adam got Lacey to her feet and herded her out of the door. Luke, of course, followed.

For once, Frank had no idea what to say.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay.”

“Liar.” Frank smiled and his heart skipped when Sacha smiled back. “Do you need anything?”

“No.”

They fell silent again, as Sacha stared at Frank, emotions flying across his face.

“Why are you here?”

“Because I’m your father.”

Sacha frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t understand. It means I’m your father. You’re my son.”

“And? What are you going to do with me?”

“Do with you? I’m not going to do anything with you. I'd very much like you to come home with me. I’d like to get to know you, and for you to get to know me and the rest of your family again. But you don’t have to. Tell me what you want; what you need, and I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

Sacha continued to frown. “Why?”

“That’s what fathers do. They take care of their children.”

“And you’re going to take care of me? Really?”

“Really.”

Sacha closed his eyes and Frank remained silent letting him process what was being said.

“Where’s my mother?”

Of all the questions Sacha could have asked, that was the one Frank most dreaded. He took a breath and gazed down at his hands, twisting in his lap.

“I’m sorry, son. She died two years ago.”

“Oh. Yes. You told me.” His voice sounded wistful and distant. Once again, Frank had to fight the urge to hold him. If Mary'd been there she wouldn’t have thought twice. She’d have been on that bed, nestling his head against her breast and probably singing. But that wasn’t his style.

“That girl – she was my sister?”

“Lacey, yes. The blond man is her partner, Luke, and the other your brother, Adam.”

“She’s very pretty.”

“Yes, she is. She’s like her mother.”

“I know.” Sacha coughed and grimaced. “My throat hurts.”

“Would you like a drink of water?”

“I’d like a drink of bourbon but I guess that’s out of the question.”

“I’m afraid so.” Frank poured a glass of water and Sacha drank it eagerly, then held it out for a refill. “Take it easy. You haven’t had anything to eat for a while and if you fill your belly with water it will make you sick.”

“Yes, Dad.” Sacha smiled, sounding like he was testing it out. He seemed to like it and Frank was encouraged.

Suddenly, the smile disappeared, and his eyes widened. He swallowed hard. “Th-the house? You went there?”

“Not me, but yes. Remember? I told you yesterday.”

Sacha shook his head. “No. What…? What…?”

Burning hope vied with fear and despair in his eyes. He desperately wanted to be told the other children were safe, but he didn’t expect it. Frank didn’t want to crush his hope but knew the longer he left it the crueller it would be.

“I’m sorry, son. The house was burning before they got there.”

Sacha nodded. “He didn’t trust me. He knew I’d talk. There were explosives – all over the house. We knew whenever he left the house that if something went wrong…. There were…other plans too.”

“Like poison?”

Sacha flinched, his eyes wide, then he collapsed in on himself and started to sob. “Were…were any…? Did you save any…?”

Frank shook his head. “I’m sorry. Five children and four adults.”

Sacha nodded. “All of them." 

This time, Frank couldn’t contain himself. He grabbed Sacha roughly and pulled him close. Sacha threw his arms around Frank and held on for dear life as if the contact was all that kept him from flying off into madness.

Sacha fell asleep before he stopped crying. Coughing fits left him exhausted and he simply went limp in Frank’s arms, sobs still rocking his body. Frank gently lowered him onto the pillows and made him comfortable as best he could.

He’d barely finished when the door opened and a nurse entered. She proceeded to wake Sacha again to take his vitals even though he'd told her what happened. Frank could cheerfully have throttled her.

Sacha didn’t cry. He lay quietly and let her do whatever she wanted, watching with dull, dead eyes. Frank tried to talk to him, to reassure him but he didn’t acknowledge his presence. To Frank’s eyes, he was a rag doll, empty and mindless. His heart breaking, Frank reached for Sacha’s hand and squeezed it. There was no answering squeeze.

When the nurse left, Sacha didn’t immediately go back to sleep but lay, staring at the ceiling. 

“He’s going to come after me,” Sacha said after a long silence, startling Frank.

“Sorry, what?”

“He’s going to come after me. He doesn’t like loose ends.”

“I noticed. Sacha….” Frank struggled with himself. Should he tell Sacha what happened? Did he have the right not to? He'd have to tell him eventually because they needed him to look at the photographs.

“Sacha, there’s something you need to know. Something…happened when you were asleep.”

Sacha turned on his side and gazed at Frank, his wide golden eyes holding a thoughtful expression. “I kind of…remember…something. Someone was here. He said....” Sacha frowned deeply. “He said I was going to pay. It didn’t make much sense, and then there were people everywhere and….” He shrugged. “I guess…. I don’t know.”

“There’s no way to sugar-coat this, Sacha.  Someone tried to kill you.”

Frank expected a reaction and wasn’t prepared for the nothingness in Sacha’s wide, golden eyes.

“How does that make you feel? Are you frightened? Angry?”

Sacha shrugged. “I knew it would happen. He won’t stop. I guess he’ll get me in the end.”

“Doesn’t that scare you?”

Sacha considered. “Not as much as you do.”

“Me?” Would the boy ever stop throwing shocks at him? “You’re more afraid of me than the maniac who’s trying to kill you?”

Sacha nodded. “He can only kill me, I’m afraid you’re going to make me live. I don’t know how to do that.”

Frank rubbed his eyes and squeezed Sacha's arm. “I promise you have nothing to fear from me. No one is going to hurt you again if I can help it.”

“Sure.”

“Are you up to looking at photographs from the CCTV cameras? You might be able to recognise someone.”

Again that shrug. Sacha struggled upright and sat with his legs crossed and his back straight, watching Frank patiently.

The photographs were in a neat pile on the bedside cabinet. Frank picked them up and handed the top one to Sacha. Chewing his lip, Sacha carefully studied the photograph, then shook his head and handed it back to Frank. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

One by one they repeated the process until Sacha took one and frowned at it. “I know him.”

Frank leaned forward to look at the photograph. It wasn’t one Frank would have singled out as suspicious at all. The man was distinguished looking, with steel grey hair and a handsome face that suggested a good bedside manner.

“He used to come to the house sometimes when one of us was ill. Sometimes we’d go to a hospital, I think it might have been a private clinic.”

“Do you think he might be the man you remember from today?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Okay. Let’s take a quick look through the rest.”

Sacha saw no one else he recognised, and by the time he finished, he was clearly exhausted. Frank insisted he rest.

“Can I…? The lady…my…sister.”

“Lacey? Do you want to speak to her?”

“I…. She…. I felt…,”

“Okay, hold on.”

Frank found the others in the waiting room. 

Lacey gazed up anxiously.

“He wants to see you.”

“Me?” Lacey’s eyes lit up and she practically flew past Frank. Frank sighed  and went in search of DCI Herbert with the photograph clutched in his hand.