I don't have an answer for that.
Chase pulls me aside at the hospital on day three. Sofia's in her isolette, Emma's hand through the porthole, and Maya's standing at a distance like she's afraid to get too close, like proximity will make Emma's rejection more painful.
"Outside," Chase says. "Now."
We walk to the parking garage. He lights a cigarette, something I didn't know he did, and offers me one. I shake my head.
"Emma's destroying herself over this," he says, exhaling smoke. "She's not sleeping, barely eating. Pumping every three hours and crying between sessions."
The guilt sits heavy in my chest. I've been so focused on Maya's pain that I haven't fully considered what this is doing to Emma.
"I know."
"Do you?" He takes a drag. "Because from where I'm standing, you fucked up. Both of you."
I want to argue, to defend our choices, but he's right. "I know that too."
"She doesn't care that you're together; she cares that you lied." He flicks ash onto the concrete. "You made her feel stupid, like she couldn't be trusted with the truth."
"That wasn't..."
"I know what you meant to do. Protect her, keep her stress-free during the pregnancy. Noble as hell." He looks at me, and there's no judgment in his expression, just brutal honesty. "But you took away her choice. You decided what she could handle instead of letting her decide for herself. Believe me, I made that same mistake a few years ago, and you gave me hell for it."
The words hit like a slapshot to the chest.
"What do I do?"
"Give her time. Let her be angry, don't try to fix it yet." He stubs out the cigarette. "She's hurt, but she's not done with you, either of you. She just needs to feel it first."
I nod, processing his words. He makes it sound so simple, but nothing about this feels simple. “The trial's soon."
"I know."
"Maya's going to testify; she needs Emma there. She needs..."
"I'll talk to her." Chase starts toward the entrance, then stopsand turns back. "But you need to understand something, Jackson. Emma's not just your sister—she's Maya's best friend. And right now, she's terrified she's lost that. So maybe worry less about what you can do for Emma, and more about what the two of you can do for her."
He's right. Of course, he's right.
Inside, Maya's still standing away from the isolette. Emma's talking to Sofia, voice soft, telling her daughter about the mobile they bought for the nursery, about the way the stars glow in the dark.
I walk over to Maya. She doesn't look at me. It’s as though something terrible will happen if she looks away.
"Chase thinks she'll come around," I say quietly.
"When?"
The desperation in her voice cuts through me. "I don't know."
"I can't do the trial without her." Maya's voice is barely a whisper. "I can't get up there and talk about what happened without her in that room."
I want to tell her she can, want to be the support she needs, but I know better.
Emma glances over. For a second, our eyes meet, then she looks away like the sight of us causes her physical pain.
"We'll figure it out," I say.
"How?"
