Anger and hurt spread through me all over again.
I didn’t want to see Enrico. I didn’t want to hear him breathe in the same space as me. I wanted distance. Time. A moment to recover strength I no longer had.
But he came anyway—walking into the room looking wrecked, bringing weight and panic into a moment already heavy enough.
I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away and return to Clara, but emotional exhaustion threatened to swallow me whole.
A soft knock pulled me from my spiral.
The door opened slowly and a doctor stepped in, her face kind, her eyes assessing Clara first and then me.
“Good morning, Mrs. Ferrara,” she said gently, moving to the bed to check Clara’s vitals. “How did Clara do overnight?”
“She seems calmer,” I said, voice tired. “She slept most of the time.”
The doctor nodded and finished her evaluation.
“I’d like to speak with you and your husband for a moment outside,” she said. “Is that alright?”
A surge of hesitation hit me. My eyes went to Clara immediately.
“Will she be okay alone? I don’t want to leave her—”
The doctor touched my arm lightly.
“She’s stable now. She likely won’t wake for a while. It will be quick, I promise.”
I breathed in slowly and forced myself to nod.
Standing up felt like lifting my body out of concrete. When I stepped into the hallway, I saw Enrico leaning against the wall nearby, his expression tense, his eyes shadowed with anguish.
“Mr. Ferrara,” the doctor said, “please come with us as well.”
Enrico’s eyes found mine immediately, uncertain—almost pleading—looking for permission or instruction. He looked like a man who didn’t know how to exist in this moment.
I didn’t have the strength to give him anything.
I simply looked away.
Ignored him completely.
And followed the doctor down the hallway.
Behind me, I heard Enrico’s slow footsteps as he followed us into a small room at the end of the corridor. Inside, another woman was already waiting. She rose as we entered, offering a gentle smile.
“Good morning. I’m Alice Guedes,” she said. “I’m the hospital’s child psychologist.” Her voice was calm. “We need to talk about Clara and what happened last night.”
My chest tightened again.
Enrico sat beside me, silent, careful, as if he was afraid any movement might make things worse.
Alice looked at both of us, calm and observant, taking in the tension that lived between us.
“First, I want to reassure you,” she said. “Clara is physically stable. What she experienced was an acute anxiety episode, likely triggered by a strong emotional event.” Her eyes moved between us. “Do you have any idea what might have caused that reaction?”
My stomach twisted.
I looked down.
