Chapter 3: The Emergency Room
Chapter 3: The Emergency Room
Rain lashed against the windshield of my SUV as we sped through the dark city streets, the wipers working frantically to clear the glass. The city lights blurred into long streaks of neon and white. Maya was strapped into the back seat, wrapped securely in my heavy wool trench coat. She hadn't said a single word since we left the house. She just stared blankly out the window, looking so incredibly small and fragile in the leather seat.
At a red light, I pulled out my phone and played the voicemail from Mrs. Gable, the school counselor, pressing the speaker against my ear. Hearing that Maya had collapsed at recess made my blood boil with a toxic mix of rage and overwhelming guilt. How had I missed this? I had been so consumed by grief, so buried in my corporate mergers and board meetings, that I had outsourced the care of my only child to a monster. How had I been so blind?
When we arrived at the emergency room, the automatic doors slid open to reveal a chaotic waiting area. The bright fluorescent lights made Maya flinch, and she covered her eyes with her small hands. She clung to my leg as a triage nurse approached us with a clipboard.
"My daughter collapsed at school today," I told the nurse, my voice steady but tight with restrained emotion. "I need her evaluated immediately. I suspect she hasn't been eating properly for weeks, maybe months."
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Taking one look at Maya’s pale complexion and trembling frame, they rushed us into a private examination room, bypassing the waiting line. When the nurse gently asked Maya to remove her oversized sweatshirt for the exam, my heart shattered all over again. Beneath the baggy clothing, her collarbones jutted out sharply against her pale skin. Her ribs were visible. She looked like a ghost of the vibrant, energetic girl she used to be.
She looked at me with those big, frightened eyes—Sarah's eyes. I reached out and held her small hand, rubbing my thumb over her cold knuckles, silently vowing that the woman who did this would pay for every single tear.
