Cameron Robinson slumped against the cold tiled wall, his head in his hands. What was going on? How could they even think that he would hurt Porky? It had all gone so quickly. He had been scared back at the hospital, terrified when he saw his brother. He knew what lengths Rob would go to, and when he had threatened to kill him, he was sure that he meant it. Running back to his father, the only person he thought would believe him, he had been sure his ordeal was at an end. Now, in the dingy police cell, he was lost. He just didn't understand.
Porky. His heart thumped fast with worry for his sister, as he remembered what Paul had said. Was she hurt? Was she dead? No, not dead, his father had said she was alive. Did she too think that he had tried to kill her? For a moment, in the half darkness, her face swam before Cam's eyes, like a reflection on the still waters of a lake. He shook his head, and the image was gone. He had a terrible headache, and curiously found he was shaking all over. He felt sick. He had asked for some water, but they had given him none. Why would they not take him back to the hospital? He'd been awake for a little over two days, and was still terribly weak.
When they first had taken him to the station, his hands cuffed, they had made him sit, with a bright light dazzling his eyes, and they had asked him questions, so many questions. He could not answer them; only repeat, again and again, the few things he knew for a fact. Eventually, they had got so frustrated they had thrown him back in his cell, and it was there that he had spent the last day and night. What bomb? What accident? He didn't understand. His head hurt so badly, all he wanted to do was go back to St. Luke's.
Absent-mindedly, Luke fiddled with the sleeve of the jacket, twisting back the brown fabric to reveal the bruise flesh where Max had grabbed him. He had never seen that jacket until two days ago, it was not his, but Robert's. Robert. Even his very name sent a shiver down his spine. He tried to remember what had happened before the car crash. A bomb. He had planted a bomb. Now, the memories came flooding back. Rob had planted a bomb on a plane somewhere, and had told him that he planned to kill their father. That was when Cam knew. Robert was crazy. He had told him so, and the next thing he could remember, was waking up with Rob pinching him. Why had they not listened to him? Robert was out there, somewhere, planning more murders against his father and sister, and he could do nothing to stop him!
The door of the cell creaked open, and the face of the bulldog like chief constable peered in.
"Robinson. You've got visitors."
Cam nodded, and shakily rose to his feet, leaning on the wall to support him.
He was scared, and confused. So, so scared.