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My lungs felt like they were full of water. No, not water. Something thicker, like paint. I felt like something thick and gloopy was slowly filling my lungs and choking the life out of me. My airways were blocked. I couldn't drag in any oxygen. Couldn't breathe. 
I watched the door shut behind Rose and the doctors that surrounded her, creating a barrier between me and her. I wanted to be by her side. I wanted to hold her hand. I wanted to know exactly what was wrong and how they were going to fix it. I wanted to be with her. 
But I knew they needed to work. And I needed to let them.
"Matt!"
Relief seeped into my muscles and I turned around just in time to catch my mom as she came crashing into me. Her arms wrapped around me, squeezing me tightly to the point of suffocation. But I didn't care. I held her just as tightly, feeling myself shaking against her while tears pricked my eyes. I needed my mom right now. I needed my parents so much right now.
Dad's hand landed on my back and he patted me a few times. "Come on, let's take a seat," he said, guiding us towards the waiting area and away from where Rose was. I was reluctant to put any distance between us but I knew there was nothing I could do for her right now. I was stuck out here, waiting and hoping and praying that she'd be okay.
I settled onto a seat between my parents. Mom immediately clasped one of my hands in both of hers, squeezing them gently while Dad clasped my shoulder. "Did the doctors say anything to you?" he asked me, his tone sharp.
I shook my head, keeping my head low. I'd begged them to tell me what was wrong with her, why she wasn't waking up, begged them to tell me if she was going to be okay. But they hadn't answered any of my questions. They'd only told me to let them do their jobs and they would tell me everything as soon as they knew more. I'd contemplated arguing, demanding they tell me more or threatening them if I had to, but any further conversation would only delay them. I needed Rose to be taken care of first and foremost. My desire for answers could wait.
Meanwhile, my attention turned to her father. If I couldn't know what was happening with Rose, I needed to know what would happen to her father. I needed to know that he would get what he deserved. "What happened with the chief?" I asked. My voice came out rough and scratchy from crying and dad squeezed my shoulder.
For a moment, he was quiet and I tilted to look at him. His jaw was clenched, eyes narrowed and the hand that wasn't on my shoulder was curled into a fist. The worry hit me like a bullet. "He arrested him," he answered eventually with a nod.
"Okay?"
He released a heavy sigh. "Rose's father didn't say much, wouldn't tell him which officers he's friends with." I'd expected that. "They need to put together a case now. They need evidence. And the best evidence they can get is statements," he said, turning to face me directly for the first time, "from Rose, from her mother. Anyone else that saw or heard anything."
My stomach tightened. Statements from Rose and her mom would make a massive contribution to a case against him. But I wasn't sure Rose would do it. I wasn't sure she'd be brave enough to stand up to him in such a direct way. I didn't voice those worries though. "I'll give my statement," I confirmed with a nod. I'd happily tell the chief what this guy had done to his daughter. And I sure as shit wouldn't hold back. "What about when they have built a case? What then?"
He knew what I was asking. His eyes seemed to darken a little as he answered. "I've spoken to the chief about it."
I only nodded. Prison was too easy for a man like that. He deserved to feel even a fraction of the pain he'd caused Rose. He deserved to feel fear the way she'd feared him. I wanted him to experience what she'd experienced. Someone else having control over your life, your pain. I wanted him to know what its like for someone else to hold his life in their hands.