Chapter 5: One Year, Separate Rooms

Hattie opened her eyes at six the next morning.

I had not slept.

I sat on a plastic chair beside her bed in the pediatric ICU at Leacrest General, one hand through the rail around hers.

"Mommy," she whispered.

"I'm here, baby."

"My leg feels funny."

"The doctors fixed it. You were very brave."

She looked at the ceiling, and her eyes went wide at the tubes.

"Did a monster get us?"

"A truck did. It's gone."

She thought about that.

"Is Daddy here?"

"Not yet, baby."

She looked at the door for a long time, and I looked at her hand and not at her face.

Then her eyes slid past me and stopped.

Cillian stood in the doorway in yesterday's shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow.

He hadn't left the building all night, and neither of us had mentioned it.

"Who's that?" Hattie asked.

"This is Mr. Draper," I said. "He's a friend of Mommy's."

"Are you a doctor?"

"No," Cillian said. He came in and stood at the foot of the bed, not close. "I'm the man with the helicopter."

Her mouth fell open, and I saw the gap where her front tooth had been.

"A real one?"

"A real one."

"Did you drive it?"

"I let somebody else drive. I'm better at the phone."

"That's a terrible job," Hattie said.

His shoulders moved, and I realized he was laughing without any sound.

I looked away so I wouldn't stare.

A nurse came in to check the monitors.

When she was done, Cillian tipped his head toward the hall.

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