Chapter 3 - RUE CALLAWAY
"I hear you!" Rue called out over the phone, adjusting her position on the cold concrete.
She shifted her legs, sitting cross-legged on the oil-stained floor to form a solid, warm support for the child. She pulled Belle up so the girl's head rested against her shoulder, keeping her spine straight and her throat clear, just as Harlan had instructed. With her free hand, Rue began vigorously rubbing warmth into Belle's small, shivering hands and arms, trying to force circulation back into her fingers.
Belle's eyes rolled backward slightly, her eyelids fluttering as her head dropped heavily against Rue's collarbone.
"No, no, no! Belle! Open your eyes!" Rue urged softly, her voice filled with desperate affection. "Stay with me, sweetie. Look at the lights. Look at me."
Belle let out a tiny, whimpering sigh, her small fingers curling weakly into the fabric of Rue's waitress uniform. "Daddy...?"
"He's coming, baby. Your daddy is coming right now. Just keep breathing for me," Rue whispered, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she rubbed the girl's small back through the thick coat.
Through the speaker of the phone, which was resting on the concrete beside Rue's knee on speakerphone, Harlan Voss's heavy, frantic breathing rattled through the small speaker, accompanied by the screaming whine of a high-performance engine taking corners at dangerous speeds.
"Is she still talking?" Harlan demanded through the phone, his voice strained with immense tension.
"She's slipping," Rue answered honestly, her gaze locked on Belle's pale features. "Her breathing is getting weaker. Please hurry!"
There was a brief pause on the line, broken only by the sound of tires screeching over pavement through the phone's speaker.
"What's your name?" Harlan asked suddenly. His voice was no longer just the voice of a panicked father; it was the voice of a ruler cataloging every variable, recording every detail of the event taking place around his daughter.
Rue blinked, wiping a stray tear from her cheek with her sleeve. "Rue. Rue Callaway."
A strange, heavy silence settled over the phone line for two full seconds. The sound of the screaming engine continued in the background, but Harlan Voss did not immediately respond.
When he spoke again, he pronounced her full name with a slow, deliberate cadence, rolling the syllables over his tongue as if searching through a vast, mental archive built over decades.
"Rue... Callaway..." Harlan repeated softly.
Rue frowned slightly, confused by the sudden change in his tone, but before she could question it, Harlan's voice hardened into steel—an absolute command backed by the full weight of his terrifying authority.
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"Do not leave my daughter, Rue," Harlan growled through the speaker. "If she closes her eyes before I get there, I will hold you personally accountable. Stay right there!"
"I'm not going anywhere!" Rue snapped back, entirely unbothered by his threat, focused entirely on the dying child in her arms. "Just get here!"
