I shook my head. “But Clara must have. She got sick first. No question.”
“True. But what they are implying is that Rosie could have just as easily caught the disease from anyone.”
I thought back to those first few days when everything happened just before our lives had been upended. Clara had been sent home from school one day, and Rosie had woken up feverish three days later.
It was a tight timeline but itwasa timeline.
To say nothing of the fact that the Coopers had just taken a flight from a destination that had recently suffered a measles outbreak. Whereas where had Rosie been over Easter? At home in Knockroe, with me.
And unlike Clara, I thought, my mouth hardening into a thin line at yet another example of the Coopers’ blatant disregard for the rules, my daughter had returned to school when term resumed, unlike Clara, who was off enjoying herself in Florida, taking home a souvenir to her schoolmates that could still yet prove to be fatally dangerous.
I checked my watch, realizing I was wasting too much time seething at the Coopers when I should be at my daughter’s bedside. “I’d better go,” I told Declan, standing up suddenly. “I need to be at the hospital.”
He looked at me speculatively. “You sure you’re still OK with all of this, Kate? Like I said before, we can pull back at any time.”
“No,” I replied firmly. “Do what you have to.”
While admittedly I’d had a huge case of the jitters and major second thoughts once I’d given Declan the go-ahead to issue the summons, now I was glad I hadn’t just lain down like a meek doe and accepted my, and indeed Rosie’s, fate.
But now—with a response like that from the Coopers?
Bring it on.
24
A week later, I was surprised I didn’t get pulled over as I raced to the hospital; I was honestly driving that fast. And I suppose I should also be thankful that I didn’t cause an accident, either, as I was surely the absolute epitome of a dangerous driver—texting and speeding, all while feeling a mixture of optimism and panic. And my car wasn’t the only thing going Mach 10; my mind was racing, too.
The hospital had phoned first thing; Rosie had shown some signs of waking up.
Rushing out of the house, I’d sent a harried text to Declan, telling him that I wouldn’t be able to make this morning’s planned meeting at his office as I’d been called to the hospital.
He sent an immediate reply, wishing Rosie well and asking if there was anything he could do, and I felt grateful that he hadn’t pressed by looking for more details.
Because I couldn’t give him any. I had no idea what this meant. It was surely good news that she’d awakened of her own accord, but here was the important question: Would the coma spell have done the trick in letting her brain heal and stopping the seizures?
After screeching into the hospital parking lot, I found the first available spot. I sprang from the driver’s seat and broke into a run, heading straight for the entrance.
The hospital doors opened automatically for me and, within seconds, I was punching the button in the elevator, willing it to open, a myriad of thoughts rushing through my brain—most of them incomplete and abbreviated.
Would my little girl be OK? Could this nightmare be close to being over? My heart hammered in my chest and I realized the only thing I wanted was to see Rosie open her eyes and say my name. It felt like so long since that had happened. Something so simple would make me the happiest woman on earth.
Finally, the elevator doors opened in front of me and I punched in the floor I needed. Waiting for them to close, I looked up as if I could see through the floors and into Rosie’s room. When the elevator finally arrived at the relevant floor, I burst out and tried to tell myself not to run. The nurse in me said it wasn’t safe.
But no matter, my feet wouldn’t listen to my admonishing and off I went like a Derby champion straight out of the gates.
And, finally, I was at Rosie’s room.
Dr. Ryan was in there with some of the medical team. They all stood over Rosie’s bed, closely monitoring the machines and her charts. I could feel the sweat trickle down my back. I had to see my little girl. Was she awake? Was she fully conscious?
Sensing my presence, Dr. Ryan turned around and met my gaze. I widened my eyes expectantly, hoping she would nod, smile or give me some indication that everything was OK. However, stoic as always, she retained her maddening sense of mystique and motioned for me to approach the bed.
I felt like I was walking underwater, everything was moving in such slow motion. As I neared the bed, I heard the sounds from the machines, the same sounds that I had been hearing for weeks.
As Rosie’s small little body came into view, my heart soared when I realized her little eyelids were twitching and fluttering, as if she was struggling to rouse herself from a deep sleep and wanted nothing more than to return to the dreamland in which she’d been residing.
Suddenly, I broke from my fog and rushed to her side, practically pushing one of the nurses out of the way. Dropping to my knees, I hovered over her small body, breathing in her scent. “Rosie? Sweetheart? It’s Mum. Wake up, honey, I miss you,” I cooed. “Please wake up, it’s OK.”
“Kate,” Dr. Ryan said gently. “Just give her time. It’s happening.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but I felt the promise of her words lie heavy on my being.
