Chapter 208

The sulfur smell hit Maria first, sharp and acrid, overlaid with the cloying stench of gasoline. This man—he wasn't looking for his family, just prowling the restaurant. Unease coiled in her gut. "Rena, sweetie," she whispered, scooping up her still-munching daughter, "let's go home."

"But I'm not finished," Serena mumbled, cheeks full.

"No more." Maria's anxiety spiked; the man's eyes were on her. Grayson, frowning, piped up, "Wasting food is bad." He'd just been lectured himself.

Frantically, Maria bundled Serena into her jacket, grabbed her bag, then Grayson's hand. "Come on, you too." Panic clawed at her. She couldn't save everyone, only her own. This was all suspicion, but she had to get the children out, call the police.

Claire, Grayson's tutor, shrieked, clinging to the boy. "What are you doing? Kidnapping him?"

Her voice drew attention, including the man's cold stare. He was slowly unbuttoning his coat. Maria's heart hammered. "I'm not kidnapping anyone! Come with us. I'll explain outside," she said, her eyes darting to the man. He was pulling something out.

"Let's go! Now!" She yanked Grayson away from Claire. Before she could see what the man held, she yelled, "Get out! Danger!"

An explosion ripped through the restaurant.

Harrowfell Hospital. The waiting room TV blared breaking news: "A bombing at the children's restaurant…perpetrator in custody." The emergency room was chaos—screams, groans, wails. The man had used homemade explosives and weapons.

Maria held Serena close, trembling as another small body, shrouded in white, was wheeled past. Serena's green wristband indicated she wasn't seriously hurt. Grayson's was green too, but he was covered in blood, unconscious.

"Maria, will Grayson die?" Serena whispered, her voice small.

"No, he won't." Maria's voice was steady, though her heart ached. Serena then worried about her mother. "Maria, have you reached Mom yet?"

Paisley and Lucy didn't answer. Thankfully, Maria and Serena were unharmed; Grayson's injuries weren't life-threatening. The yellow and red wristbands—critical condition.

Serena shivered. "Maria, I'm cold."

Maria wrapped her coat around her. "Soon, sweetie. Just a little longer." They needed check-ups; police were interviewing witnesses. She messaged Paisley and Lucy.

A sharp cry pierced the air. "Sonny! My Sonny!" Lauren rushed to Grayson's bedside, her wails echoing. "Wake up, Grandma's here!"

She grabbed a doctor. "Is my grandson dead?"

"No, ma'am! He fainted from blood. He'll wake up soon. Please step back."

Dominick arrived, his pale face regaining color. "Mom, let the doctor work."

Lauren noticed the "Intern" nametag. "An intern? How can they let an intern treat my grandson?"

The intern explained patiently, "I'm cleaning wounds, following my supervisor's instructions. All the other doctors are busy with critical cases." He gestured to Serena and Maria in the hallway. Paisley was nowhere in sight.