I don't remember how long we waited after that.
The clock kept moving, but I had stopped trusting time.
Daniel sat beside me, occasionally looking toward the emergency doors.
I held the paper cup of water between my hands until it became soft around the rim.
Then a nurse appeared.
"Emily Miller?"
I stood so quickly that the cup slipped from my fingers.
Water spilled across the floor.
"I'm Lily's mother."
"Dr. Blake would like to speak with you."
I followed her without waiting for Daniel.
He came behind me.
The nurse led us into the same consultation room where we had spoken with the doctor earlier.
Dr. Blake was standing beside a desk.
His face was tired.
I searched his expression before he said anything.
"How is my daughter?"
He asked us to sit.
I remained standing.
"Please," I said. "I need to know."
He explained that the team had continued working to stabilize Lily.
Her condition remained critical, and the injuries to her head were serious.
He told us that the immediate efforts had achieved some progress, but he couldn't promise what would happen next.
I listened to every word.
I was afraid that if I missed one, I might misunderstand something important.
"Can I see her now?"
He nodded.
A nurse would accompany me and explain what I could expect.
I looked at Daniel.
He had tears running down his face.
For the first time that night, I saw him cry without trying to hide it.
"Can I come too?" he asked.
Dr. Blake explained that he would arrange access for both parents when the treatment team was ready.
I thanked him.
The nurse led us toward the treatment area.
I could hear equipment before I could see Lily.
The sounds were unfamiliar.
Soft beeps.
A quiet mechanical hum.
Voices speaking in low tones.
I wanted to turn around.
I wanted to run toward her.
I wanted to ask the nurse to tell me what I was about to see so I could prepare myself.
Instead, I followed her.
Then I saw my daughter.
Lily lay in a hospital bed surrounded by equipment.
There were medical lines and monitoring devices I didn't understand.
Her tiny body seemed swallowed by the white sheets.
I stopped at the doorway.
For three weeks, I had known her mostly by touch.
The warmth of her cheek against my chest.
The small weight of her head in my palm.
The way her fingers curled around one of mine.
Now there was a space between us filled with equipment and instructions.
I was afraid to cross it.
The nurse came beside me.
"You can stand here."
I nodded.
I moved toward the bed slowly.
Lily's face looked peaceful, but I knew that appearance meant nothing about what she was experiencing.
I reached for her hand.
It was so small.
I had held it countless times at home.
I had touched her fingers while she slept, checked them when I worried she was cold, and watched them open and close when she cried.
Now I could barely bring myself to touch her.
"Hi, sweetheart."
My voice broke.
"It's Mommy."
I waited.
I knew she might not respond.
Still, some part of me expected her fingers to curl around mine.
They didn't.
I stroked the back of her hand with one finger.
"I'm here."
Daniel stood on the other side of the bed.
He didn't speak at first.
He stared at Lily as though he was trying to memorize every part of her.
Then he whispered her name.
"Lily."
He reached toward her, but he stopped when he noticed the medical equipment.
The nurse showed him where he could safely touch her.
He placed one hand beside hers.
"I'm sorry, baby."
He said it so quietly that I almost didn't hear him.
I wanted to tell him that Lily couldn't be the one who had to forgive us.
She was the baby.
We were the adults.
It was our responsibility to protect her.
But I didn't speak.
There was nothing useful I could say while standing beside her bed.
I looked at the small hand beneath my fingers.
I remembered the hallway.
I remembered how I had held her against my shoulder, convinced that if I kept walking and rocking, I could settle her.
I remembered the sudden movement beside me.
Then the floor.
I closed my eyes.
The nurse asked whether I needed a moment.
"Yes."
She gave us space while remaining nearby.
I leaned closer to Lily.
"I tried to keep you safe."
The words came out in a whisper.
"I tried."
I didn't know whether saying them helped me or hurt me.
Perhaps both.
After a little while, the nurse explained that the team needed room to continue caring for Lily.
We would have to return to the waiting area.
I kissed Lily gently where I was permitted to do so.
Then I stepped away.
I kept looking back as I followed Daniel out.
I didn't want to leave her.
But leaving her in the care of people who knew how to help was the only choice available to me.
In the hallway, Daniel reached for my hand.
I let him take it.
We walked back to the waiting area without speaking.
Patricia stood when she saw us.
"Did you see her?"
I nodded.
"How is she?"
"She's still critical."
Patricia covered her mouth.
For a moment, I saw genuine fear in her face.
Then she looked at me.
"Emily, I need you to understand something."
I was too tired to answer.
She continued anyway.
"I never wanted Lily to be hurt."
I looked at her.
"I know you didn't want this outcome."
She seemed relieved by those words.
But I wasn't finished.
"That doesn't change what you did."
Her expression hardened again.
"I said I was sorry."
"No, you asked me to say it was an accident."
She looked away.
I sat down.
I wasn't going to spend the night arguing with her.
I had seen Lily.
I had touched her hand.
That was all I could manage.
Daniel sat beside me.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, "I should have stopped Mom from treating you that way long before tonight."
I looked at him.
He was staring at his hands.
"I kept thinking it would get better if I stayed out of it."
"It didn't."
"I know."
He turned toward me.
"I can't change what happened tonight. But I can stop pretending it was nothing."
I wanted to believe him.
I also knew that one honest sentence did not erase years of avoidance.
So I nodded without making him a promise.
Then I looked toward the doors again.
My daughter was on the other side.
For now, that was where my thoughts belonged.
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: Patricia Wanted Me to Remember Her as a Frightened Grandmother, but I Could Not Forget the Way She Spoke While Lily Lay Unconscious
I Thought the Worst Part of Being a New Mother Was Losing Sleep, Until My Mother-in-Law Made One Cruel Decision for Me
Part 9 of 20
