Chapter 5 - A Bed Beside the Window
I left Sarah’s apartment without opening the letter.
That decision bothered me all the way back to the hospital.
The envelope sat inside a sealed evidence sleeve Denise had arranged, my name visible through the plastic like an accusation.
I kept imagining what could be inside.
A complaint?
A warning?
A plea for help that had never been mailed?
Maybe Sarah had worked for Daniel.
Maybe she knew something about what he had done to my company.
Maybe our lives had come within inches of intersecting three years earlier without either of us knowing.
But whatever was in that envelope belonged to a woman who might still wake up and explain it herself.
I decided I wanted that more than I wanted answers.
When Lily saw me return, she ran from the playroom.
“You came back.”
Her relief made me uncomfortable.
Not because I didn’t want it.
Because I did.
Too much.
“I told you I would.”
She hugged my leg.
I looked at Denise.
She said nothing.
Later that morning, the hospital moved Sarah into a different ICU room with a window overlooking First Hill.
Lily was allowed another short visit.
This time, she carried Eleven the rabbit.
“You can borrow him,” she told her mother.
Sarah didn’t respond.
“But I need him back.”
Nothing.
“When you wake up.”
Still nothing.
Lily placed the rabbit beside Sarah’s pillow.
Then she climbed onto a chair and began talking about breakfast.
She told Sarah about syrup on eggs.
About my “yucky face.”
About Nolan buying too many snacks.
About the hospital elevator making her stomach feel funny.
She spoke as though Sarah were simply resting.
Maybe that was how children survive frightening things.
They make the unbearable ordinary.
I stood near the door.
After ten minutes, a nurse touched my arm.
“She should go.”
I nodded.
“Lily.”
She stopped talking.
“Time.”
Her face fell.
“Can I say one more thing?”
“One.”
She leaned close to Sarah’s ear.
“I found someone who stayed all night.”
I looked away.
Outside the room, Lily asked if we could stay at the hospital again.
The emergency arrangement had been approved for seventy-two hours while Denise’s office evaluated longer options and tried to reach Daniel.
That name was becoming a cloud over everything.
“Can we get grilled cheese?” Lily asked.
“Sure.”
“And tomato soup?”
“Sure.”
“And chocolate milk?”
“Also sure.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Mommy says too many sures mean you’re not listening.”
“I’m listening.”
“What did I say?”
“Grilled cheese, tomato soup, chocolate milk.”
“Okay.”
She nodded, impressed.
“Maybe you listen.”
We sat in the cafeteria.
Halfway through lunch, my phone rang.
Nolan.
I ignored it.
It rang again.
Then again.
“What?” I answered.
“You need to see the internet.”
“I really don’t.”
“A customer recorded part of yesterday.”
I stopped.
“What part?”
“The counter.”
My stomach sank.
“Lily?”
“Yes.”
“Her face?”
“Yes.”
“Get it taken down.”
“We’re trying.”
“How many views?”
Silence.
“Nolan.”
“Two point four million.”
I closed my eyes.
Lily dipped her sandwich into soup.
“What’s two point four million?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
Nolan continued, “Local news wants a statement. National outlets are picking it up. The headline is basically ‘Little Girl Tries to Buy a Father for Eleven Dollars.’”
“Absolutely not.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing.”
“That may make it worse.”
“I don’t care. A child is involved.”
“Agreed.”
“No interviews. No photos. No employee comments. Anyone who talks to media about Lily loses their job.”
“That’s harsh.”
“Good.”
I hung up.
Lily stared at me.
“Are you mad?”
“Yes.”
“At me?”
“No.”
“Then okay.”
The confidence with which she accepted that answer hurt.
I wondered how often she had needed to determine whether an adult’s anger was dangerous.
Twenty minutes later, Denise stormed into the cafeteria.
“You saw?”
“Yes.”
“This complicates everything.”
“I’m trying to remove it.”
“You can’t remove the internet.”
“I can make life extremely unpleasant for the person who posted a child’s face without permission.”
“Do that later.”
She slid into the chair across from me.
“We reached Daniel Mercer.”
I stopped.
Lily was coloring on a paper placemat.
I lowered my voice.
“And?”
“He says he had no idea Sarah was ill.”
“Of course he didn’t.”
“He says he wants immediate access to his daughter.”
My jaw tightened.
“Does Lily know?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Ethan.”
“What?”
“Your feelings do not determine what happens.”
“I’m aware.”
“You’re reacting like a parent.”
I looked at Lily.
She was drawing a yellow door.
“That’s a problem?”
“It can be if you forget you aren’t one.”
The sentence shouldn’t have hurt.
It did.
“What does Sarah’s protective order mean?”
“It means we move carefully. But the order is old and no longer active.”
“Why did it expire?”
“I’m still reviewing.”
“June?”
“Claims Sarah was terrified of Daniel but stopped pursuing court action because she couldn’t afford prolonged litigation.”
Of course.
Money again.
The thing I had too much of.
The thing Sarah hadn’t had enough of.
“What does Daniel want?”
“To see Lily tonight.”
“No.”
Denise’s eyes hardened.
“You don’t decide.”
“Then ask Lily.”
“We will.”
“She said her mother gets scared when his name comes up.”
“I know.”
“And you’re going to bring him here?”
“Not without safeguards.”
I pushed my tray away.
“What kind?”
“Supervised contact. Child specialist present. Neutral room.”
“No.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Trying to control an outcome because you’re afraid.”
I stared at her.
She was right again.
I hated that even more.
Lily looked up.
“Can I show Mommy my picture?”
The argument disappeared instantly.
“Sure.”
Her drawing showed three people.
A woman.
A little girl.
And a tall man.
I stared at it.
“Who’s that?”
She pointed.
“Mommy.”
“Okay.”
“That’s me.”
“I got that.”
“And that’s you.”
I stopped.
“Me?”
“You’re too tall.”
“That seems accurate.”
“And I made your hair messy because it is.”
I almost smiled.
Then I saw what she had written underneath in careful block letters.
PEOPLE WHO CAME BACK
My throat closed.
“Lily…”
“Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Can we put it by Mommy?”
I nodded.
We taped it beside Sarah’s window.
An hour later, while Lily sat with a child-life specialist, I received another call.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Ethan Cole?”
The voice was male.
Polished.
Controlled.
I knew who it was before he said his name.
“Daniel Mercer.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“How did you get this number?”
“I have resources.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“I understand you’ve become involved with my daughter.”
“Your daughter walked two miles through a storm because her mother was unconscious.”
Silence.
Then Daniel said, “Be careful.”
“With what?”
“Believing stories you haven’t heard both sides of.”
“I’m not interested in your side.”
“You will be.”
“Why?”
“Because Sarah lied to you.”
I stood very still.
“I’ve never met Sarah.”
Daniel laughed once.
Not warmly.
“That’s what you think.”
My pulse changed.
“What does that mean?”
“You found the letter, didn’t you?”
I said nothing.
His silence became satisfaction.
Then he added, “Ask yourself why Sarah Carter had a letter with your name on it for three years.”
The line went dead.
I stared through the hospital window at Seattle below.
Behind me, machines continued keeping Sarah alive.
Down the hall, Lily was laughing for the first time since I had met her.
And in my pocket was a message from Denise.
Daniel will arrive at 5 PM for supervised contact.
The man Lily’s mother had once been afraid of was coming.
May you like
And somehow, he already knew about a letter no one outside that apartment should have known existed.
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