“Come with me.” The woman stands and leads me back behind keycard access doors. God, every inch of my body wants to be running, but this woman won’t move faster than a damn sloth.
“Please,” I insist. “Can you just tell me where?—”
She motions to the left. “Here she is.”
In the curtain-walled room, Winnie is hooked up to an IV, oxygen, and other machines. Her little sleeping face is swollen and covered in a deep red rash. I almost vomit.
“Winnie.” I collapse in the chair next to her. “Oh, Winnie honey.”
She doesn’t stir. She lays there with her little chest rising and lowering.
“Hannah—”
I blink up and find Riley sitting there with flushed cheeks and a panic stricken look on her face as she clutches Winnie’s drawstring bag.
“I am so sorry. The boy was sneaking his snack, and I don’t think Winnie understood that it had fish in it and I caught it almost immediately, but she had an almost immediate reaction?—”
“Oh good, you must be Mom.”
I turn from Riley and see a woman standing there through my tear puddled eyes. She has deeply wrinkled skin, bright eyes and is wearing blue scrubs. “I'm Noel, I’m the nurse on shift.”
“How long has she been here?”
She glances up at the clock. “Thirty minutes?”
“Oh my God.”
“She’s stable. I can’t speak too much without the doctor, but she’s stable and responding to medication. She just fell asleep.”
I don’t say anything. Ican’tsay anything. A million thoughts and questions spin in my mind, but I can’t seem to get any of them out.
“Your wife and daughter are in here, sir.”
In my anxiety, I expect to see Ethan. I expect his harsh eyes and cold glare, but instead, instant relief floods my system when it’s Tanner that walks through the curtain. He blinks at Riley and she gives a small smile.
“I’ll go now.” She stands and wrings her hands together. “Again, I am so sorry.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Don’t be sorry. You were there. You didn’t leave her. You called and helped. Thank you.”
She hands me Winnie’s bag, tips her head to Tanner, then slips away.
Tanner drops next to me. “How is she?”
I open my mouth to speak but not a single word correlates with any other.
“Good,” the nurse says. “She’s not quite out of the woods, but she’s stable.”
“How are you?” he asks and squats down in front of me. His hands hold my thighs as he gazes up at me, but all I can do is look at this rash covered child and feel every ounce of guilt my heart can wring out. It’s heavy and makes my shoulders shake with tears. “Oh babe.” He rubs my legs and lets me cry.
“Hi Mom and Dad.” A man in a white coat enters now pulling a rolling chair over to sit with us.
“I'm Doctor Robinson. I’ve been overseeing Winifred here since she came in.”
“Winnie,” I choke out. “She doesn’t like when we call her Winifred.”
The doctor’s smile softens. “Right. Winnie. She’s stable. She went into a pretty severe anaphylactic shock as the result of eating sushi from a friend at camp. The center said someone brought it as a snack and was sneaking pieces from his bag to friends without staff’s knowledge. However, if Riley Morton hadn’t acted as quickly as she did, I think we would be looking at a much worse situation. Right now, she is responding very well to medication, and we have her asleep to make her more comfortable. We will be getting her a room within the hour and want to keep her overnight for observation. What questions do you have?”
I open my mouth, but the words are all still tangled. My eyes burn with tears, and my own throat feels like it’s closing in.
