ER Fluorescence
Lily's temperature spiked dangerously as night fell. Face burning crimson, breathing ragged, her little body twisted in discomfort against mine, whimpering. Her forehead scorched my cheek. "It's okay, baby! Mommy's got you!" Wrapping her blanket hastily, I bolted into the cold night. Lily shivered violently against me. Starting the car, I ran red lights, speeding to the children's hospital ER. Harsh fluorescent lights glared as I rushed her limp form into triage. Forms.
Thermometer. Blood draw. Lily’s piercing cries echoed in the empty halls. The needle jabbed; her tiny fingers clawed my shirt, nails digging in. "Mommy, hurts… Want Daddy…" She sobbed, eyes shut. "Daddy’s coming soon," I whispered, voice breaking, tears mingling with hers on her hot skin. The hollow promise tasted like ash. Where *was* her daddy? With whom?
The 3 AM Text
Hours later. Lily finally slept, IV drip in place, temperature easing. Curled small and fragile on the narrow ER bed, tape securing the tube on her tiny hand. I slumped on a hard plastic chair, body aching. The sharp tang of antiseptic hung thick. Occasional cries and shuffling feet echoed. My phone buzzed faintly in my pocket.
Numbly, I pulled it out. Sender: Mark. Time: 03:17. Text: "Still awake? How's Lily? Just wrapped up. Client was impossible. Headed back to the apartment near the office. Early start tmrw w/ files. Hang in there, babe. <3" I stared. The words felt like poisoned needles piercing my eyes. The screen's glow illuminated my bloodless face. My fingers were frozen blocks of ice. Hang in there? Yes. Hanging on while my child burned with fever, her father likely nestled in some hotel luxury suite, perhaps post-coital, casually texting "Hang in there, babe." A wave of frigid rage and utter despair exploded from my core.
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