Chapter 8 - Emergency Triage
When the ambulance backed into the bay of St. Jude Memorial Hospital, medical staff were already waiting with a pediatric trauma gurney.
They wheeled Lily straight through the swinging double doors into the emergency resuscitation ward. I tried to follow, but a nurse gently blocked my path, guiding me to the family intake desk while the medical team swarmed around my daughter.
Ten minutes later, Ryan rushed through the automatic sliding doors of the ER, panting heavily, having driven behind us in his sedan.
“Nora! How is she?” Ryan asked, taking a step toward me with his hands outstretched. “Is she awake? What did the doctors say?”
I didn't flinch. I didn't cry. I stood up from the plastic waiting room chair with a cold, terrifying stillness that made Ryan stop dead in his tracks.
“Don't touch me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, but sharp enough to slice glass.
“Nora, come on, I panicked. Mom shouldn't have given her anything without asking, but she honestly thought she was helping—”
“Shut up, Ryan,” I whispered, staring straight into his eyes. “Just shut your mouth.”
“Where is my granddaughter?” a shrill voice echoed across the quiet waiting room.
We both turned. Judith had followed us to the hospital, her designer handbag clutched in her grip, her face contorted in a mask of wounded martyrdom.
“Judith, get out of my sight,” I warned, taking a step forward.
“Don't you dare use that tone with me, young lady!” Judith scoffed, crossing her arms. “If you hadn't been so incompetent at nursing and soothing your own child, none of this would have happened! You forced us into a corner with your constant hysteria—”
Before Judith could finish her sentence, a hand swung through the air.
Crack.
The sound of my hand striking Judith’s cheek echoed down the sterile hospital hallway.
Judith stumbled backward, clutching her face in utter disbelief, while Ryan gasped in horror.
“Nora! Have you lost your mind?” Ryan shouted, stepping between his mother and me. “You hit my mother?”
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“Your mother poisoned my seven-day-old baby,” I said, my voice trembling with suppressed fury as tears finally spilled over my cheeks. “And you enabled her. If my daughter doesn't walk out of that emergency room healthy, I swear to God I will destroy both of you in court, in prison, and anywhere else I can reach.”
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