Chapter 4
The curtain didn't close all the way when my mom stepped out. I could see the gap, maybe a foot wide, where the fluorescent light from the hallway cut across the white sheets. My IV was dripping slow and steady above me and the monitor beeped every few seconds, and I tried to keep my breathing even so the pain in my side wouldn't spike again. The nurse who'd stayed with me, her badge said Alvarez, pulled the little rolling stool closer to my bed and didn't say anything, just kept her hand light on the bed rail.
I could hear them out there. Not all the words at first, just the tone. My dad's voice was low now, not shouting like before, which was worse. That controlled, flat way he got when he wanted my mom to agree with him.
"Lena, you need to listen to me," he said. I could see his blue polo through the gap, his back half-turned toward the bay. He was pacing two steps one way, two steps back, right outside. "You tell them that was nothing, that you overreacted. Family handles family. You know what happens if you let them write this up."
My mom's voice was quieter. I had to strain to hear it over the beep. "Ray, she threw up from the pain and you threw water on her."
"It was just water," he said quickly. "It wasn't like I hurt her. You make a report, they call county, we lose the insurance, they start talking custody, you think that's better for her? You want strangers deciding for Maya?"
Alvarez glanced at me, then at the curtain. She didn't get up yet. She was listening too.
My mom didn't answer right away. I could see her brown boots planted in one spot, not moving at all while he paced. "I am not going to tell them nothing happened," she said. Her voice shook but it didn't go away. "I saw what you did. She saw what you did."
"Lena," he said, and his voice dropped even lower. "Don't do this. Don't yell, don't make a scene. You go back in there and you keep her calm. That's your job right now. Keep her calm and let me fix this before that social worker gets here. We can still keep this in the family."
There was a pause. I held my stomach with both hands and pressed my forehead back against the pillow, which was still damp where the water had splashed. The cool spot was drying at the edges.
"I'm not yelling," my mom said. I could hear her take a breath. "I'm not recanting anything. And I'm going back to my daughter, because she needs me. That's what I'm going to do. I'll keep her calm, but I'm not lying for you."
I heard his shoes squeak as he stopped pacing. For a second I thought he was going to grab her again, and my whole body tensed. But Alvarez stood up then, just enough to be visible through the gap, and my dad saw her.
A new voice came from down the hall, calm and professional. "Mr. and Mrs. — I'm Tasha Green, social work. ER called me to check in."
I couldn't see her at first, then a woman in a gray cardigan and dark pants came into view, holding a clipboard and a hospital badge. She didn't walk right up to them. She stopped a few feet away and looked. I saw her eyes go from my dad pacing to my mom with her arms crossed tight over her green top, to the security guard still sitting in the hallway chair watching.
"Mr., I'm going to ask you to have a seat in the waiting chairs for now, just so we can give everyone some space," she said to my dad. Her voice was even, not accusing, but clear. "Ma'am, are you Lena? I'd like to speak with you privately, and then with Maya separately, if that's okay. It's standard when there's been a disturbance in the bay."
My dad laughed once, short. "We don't need private screenings. We're fine."
Tasha didn't argue. She just nodded and looked at my mom. "It's hospital policy, sir. Keeps things clear for medical care. It'll be quick."
My mom looked back toward my bay, toward that gap in the curtain where I was. "Can I go back to her first?"
"Yes," Tasha said. "Absolutely. I'll come to you there. Sir, the chairs are just around the corner where security can see you. I'll find you after."
My dad didn't move for a beat, then he did that thing where his jaw worked and he shoved his hands in his dark pants pockets. He walked past the curtain without looking in at me, toward the waiting area. I watched his blue polo disappear.
My mom came back through the curtain and her face was pale under the bright light. She came right to the side of my bed and put her hand over mine where I was clutching my shirt. Her hand was cold.
"Hey, baby," she whispered. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
The IV bag dripped. Alvarez stepped back to give us space but stayed inside the bay, near the monitors.
May you like
From the hallway, I heard Tasha's soft knocking on the curtain frame. "Lena? Maya? I'm going to step in for just a few minutes when you're ready."
My mom didn't let go of my hand. She looked at me and nodded once, like we were deciding something together. The ultrasound machine still wasn't here, but I could hear its wheels somewhere down the hall, squeaking closer.
