He heard her heavy sigh. “I have to go. I want to make sure you really will be okay.”
“I don't need a babysitter, if that’s what you mean.” His tone was bitter because he felt as though he actually did need someone to look after him, and that was something he couldn't bear.
“Okay, I’m sorry for upsetting you.” She came close enough to kiss his cheek and then she was gone.
He sat again, focusing on his daughter’s face. Purple bruising covered a good portion of her cheek and forehead. The eye closest to him had swollen shut. Soon, he discovered he was crying again and wiped his face. Her nurses had given her a sponge bath that morning and she looked better than when they’d brought her in, but it was still difficult to look at her and not feel the raging need to go out on a revenge killing.
When the door opened a second time, he almost cussed. He didn't have the strength for another visitor.
“Devon?”
Startled at the familiar voice, he stood back up. “Chloe.”
She wore a gentle smile as she gestured to the door where she stood. He followed her out to the hallway, glancing back once more at the bed before the door snicked closed behind them.
“Have you thought about the counseling I mentioned?” she asked.
“I don’t think it’s something I need.”
She watched him as he paced, his fingers scraping through his hair. Fingers which trembled. “All right.”
“I don't know what you see when you look at me, but believe me, I’m not normally so—so wound up. I’m not neurotic.”
“I believe you. Do you need me to stay with Hailey while you go home for a shower or a nap?”
He stopped his manic pacing. “What?”
Chloe tried a different tactic. “Can I help you in any way?”
He stared at her for a few seconds. She had a patient expression on her face, like she had all the time in the world to stand there and let him act crazy. “Why would you help me?”
“I volunteer here at the hospital a few times a week. I thought, under the circumstances, you might appreciate some help.” She stood with her hands clasped in front of her.
“Oh. Is that why you had a key card last night?”
“Yes, but also because my father is the D.O.N.”
“The what?”
“Director of Nursing.”
“Oh.” Almost compulsively, he ran his fingers through his hair. “I hate to even admit this, but I shouldn't drive. I can’t remember the last time I slept properly.”
“Okay. I can bring you a sandwich, or a cup of coffee.”
“I guess.” He grimaced. “Um, thanks. That would be nice of you. I think my manners have gone out the window with my patience and understanding.”
“That’s quite all right. It’s expected.”
Chloe smiled, and he looked at her more closely. She was petite, maybe a few inches above five feet, wearing jeans and a blazer. She’d pushed the sleeves up to her elbows and her hair was in a ponytail. It appeared as though she was waiting for him to say something else. “Um, a turkey sandwich and a cup of black coffee.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He watched her leave before going back inside the hospital room. It was late afternoon by then. The night before, Caleb had taken Lori home after staying for most of the night. Vince had arrived shortly after the McMillans, bringing Anna. His parents had stayed until the clock told him the sun should be rising. Devon hadn't slept, hadn't eaten, hadn't left the room the entire time.
He dragged the ugly vinyl recliner close to her bed in an attempt to be more comfortable, but his brain refused to shut down when he tried to close his eyes. He shifted, trying to settle back into the chair. All he could picture was Hailey screaming as she was thrown down the well. Despite assurances that she was likely unconscious because of the head wound, he continued to see it played out that way.
Startling awake, he discovered Chloe sitting on the opposite side of the bed, humming something softly and running her hand over Hailey’s hair. Blinking, he did his best to clear the sleep from his eyes as he tried to focus on them. He couldn't think of any specific reason for Chloe to be so helpful, yet there she was, caring for his baby.
