To say the scene was gory would have been an understatement. The entire Cross family, slaughtered while they slept.
Well, not the entire family. The seven year old daughter was left alive. Mute and likely traumatized for life, but alive.
A neighbor found Sadie at 2am, playing with her doll in the sandbox.
Blood stained her nightgown, though after a quick glance it was clear the blood wasn't her own. After checking the home, police found the cause.
Both parents, brother and sister were dead. Stabbed to death in their beds.
I was there to help contain the scene. I stood by the front door, keeping nosey neighbors and determined reporters out. The kid sat on the living room sofa waiting for CPS.
As a new father, my heart hurt at the sight of her. She was so tiny. And now, so alone. I hated to think what her future might hold.
I watched her rocking herself on the sofa, her bare feet still covered with sand, dangling off the edge. She held her doll tightly to her, staring at nothing, her face dotted with blood, like freckles. Even her doll looked a wreck. I didn't want to imagine what the kid had witnessed.
She had so far refused to speak to any of the officers who'd tried. She'd only rock back and forth, clutching that one legged doll and staring at the wall.
"Poor kid." Officer Ridley whispered, shaking his head. "God only knows what she's been through."
"Hopefully she didn't see too much." I said, doubtful.
"By the looks of things, she's seen plenty. Got her footprints all over the crime scene." He said, sadly. "I hope she can at least help ID the perp."
I felt awful for the kid. Had she witnessed the murders? Or just the aftermath? Either way, she likely had years of therapy ahead of her.
"Cps is here." Ridley said, nodding toward the woman approaching.
She packed a bag of the kid's clothes and led her away by the hand. I watched them head to the car, and said a silent prayer for her. She'd need it. I just hoped she had family who'd come to claim her. Foster care would be a sad end to her already tragic tale.
"Gotta get back at it." Ridley muttered. "Hopefully we'll find the sister."
"What do you mean?' I asked.
"The three month old." He said. "She's missing."
"Kidnapped?" I asked, shocked.
He shook his head. "No chance that kid's alive." He said, his tone ominous.
"Why. How do you know?"
He lowered his voice, leaning in so only I could hear. "Because we found the baby's leg."
I spun around and watched as the CPS agent pulled away from the house. The kid stared at me through her window, a wide grin stretched across her lips. At first I thought she was waving, but as I looked closer, the hand she pressed against the glass was much too tiny to be her own.
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