Chapter 7 - What Are You Telling People?
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By noon, the medical team had moved Emma into a private room in the pediatric recovery ward.
Her face was wrapped in soft white bandages, an IV line running into her tiny hand. She was sleeping peacefully under a warm blanket, her favorite stuffed rabbit tucked under her chin.
I sat in a chair beside her bed, holding her small, uninjured hand, listening to the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor.
Suddenly, my phone vibrated again. My mother’s name flashed across the screen.
I stared at it for three long seconds before answering.
"Rachel!" my mother snapped the moment the line connected. "What on earth are you telling the hospital staff?!"
I almost let out a laugh. A cold, bitter laugh.
"What am I telling people, Mom?" I asked, keeping my voice low so I wouldn't wake Emma. "I am telling them the truth."
"Your father said police officers are coming to the house!" my mother hissed, her voice trembling with anger. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?! The neighbors saw a squad car drive down our street!"
"A four-year-old child is lying in a hospital bed with second-degree burns on her face, Mom," I said, my voice shaking with fury. "And your main concern is the neighbors?!"
"You don't understand what happened!" my mother argued. "Vanessa didn't mean to hurt her! She only meant to scare her! Emma was being difficult!"
"She sat in a chair!" I shouted softly, standing up from my seat. "She sat in a chair and ate scrambled eggs! She is four years old!"
"Lily is sensitive about her things!" my mother shouted back. "Lily was crying because Emma took her seat!"
"Lily is six years old, Mom! And Emma is a baby!"
"Lily has feelings too!" my mother yelled defensively.
I stood there in the quiet hospital room, listening to the breathing of the woman who had raised me.
"And Emma doesn't?" I asked quietly. "Does my daughter not have feelings? Does she not have a right to be safe in her grandmother's house?"
Silence answered me. A cold, suffocating silence.
"I loved you, Mom," I whispered, tears spilling onto my cheeks. "I really did. That's the most painful part of all this."
"Rachel, don't be ridiculous—"
"Goodbye, Mom."
May you like
I hung up the phone. I tapped her contact profile, pressed Block, and confirmed it. Then I blocked my sister. Then I blocked my father.
I was done listening to them protect a monster.
