Chapter 1 - He Knows Why It Hurts
“He knows why it hurts!”
Emily’s scream seemed to shut down the entire emergency room.
For one impossible second, nobody moved.
My fifteen-year-old daughter was curled on the examination bed, one arm locked around her abdomen, tears sliding into her messy brown hair.
Then every face turned toward Michael.
My husband.
Emily’s father.
The color disappeared from his face.
“What did you say?” I whispered.
Emily looked terrified of what she had just done.
Michael recovered first.
“She’s delirious.”
He stepped toward the bed.
“She has a fever. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
Emily recoiled so violently that the monitor lead pulled loose.
The doctor immediately moved between them.
“Sir, step outside.”
Michael stared at him.
“I’m her father.”
“And right now I’m her physician.”
“I’m taking my daughter home.”
“No.”
The word came from me.
Michael slowly turned.
For fifteen years, I had learned exactly what that look meant.
Correction was coming.
Punishment was coming.
Normally, I would have lowered my eyes.
Not this time.
“You threatened me when I brought her here,” I said.
His jaw tightened.
“Sarah.”
I held up my phone.
His message was still glowing on the screen.
If you took her to the hospital, you’re going to regret it.
The doctor saw it.
So did the nurse.
Michael noticed both of them noticing.
Suddenly his anger became controlled.
“You’re twisting a private family disagreement into something ridiculous.”
Emily whispered:
“Mom.”
I moved beside her.
She gripped my sleeve.
“Don’t let him take me.”
Something inside me broke.
Or perhaps something finally repaired itself.
“I won’t.”
The doctor quietly signaled toward the hallway.
A hospital security officer appeared.
Michael laughed once.
“You’re seriously doing this?”
The doctor didn’t answer.
“Mr. Bennett, you need to wait outside while I speak privately with your daughter.”
Michael stared at Emily.
She immediately looked down.
That was when I saw something I had somehow failed to understand at home.
Emily wasn’t merely scared of his temper.
She was waiting for permission to speak.
And Michael knew it.
Before security escorted him out, he looked directly at her.
“Think very carefully before you start making up stories.”
Emily began shaking.
The doctor’s expression changed.
“Sir. Now.”
The curtain closed behind Michael.
Emily buried her face against me.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I should’ve told you.”
“Told me what?”
She looked toward the curtain.
Then whispered:
“Dad took me somewhere Tuesday.”
Tuesday.
The first day she started vomiting.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened there?”
Emily opened her mouth.
Then the doctor’s pager sounded.
He looked at the message.
His face changed completely.
“What?” I demanded.
He stared at Emily.
“The ultrasound found something.”
I grabbed her hand.
“What?”
“We need surgery to evaluate this immediately.”
Emily started crying.
But instead of asking whether she was going to be okay, she asked:
“Will you find it?”
The doctor stopped.
“Find what?”
Emily looked at me.
Then at the door Michael had disappeared through.
May you like
And whispered:
“Whatever Dad made me swallow.”
