Chapter 2 - LILY’S FEETThe paramedics arrived eight minutes later.
It felt like forty.
Two ambulances.
A county rescue truck.
Deputies behind them because of the circumstances.
The storm had closed the pass farther north.
Roads were worsening.
Lily regained partial consciousness while they worked.
A paramedic named Jill asked:
“What’s your name?”
“Lily.”
“How old are you?”
“Five.”
“Do you know where you are?”
She turned her head.
Her eyes found me.
“Uncle Nathan’s.”
I stopped breathing again.
She knew me.
Not from memory.
I had last seen Sarah before Lily existed.
Sarah had shown her my photograph.
Why?
Jill asked:
“How did you get here?”
Lily started crying.
“Mommy said go.”
“From where?”
“Our house.”
“Is Mommy there?”
Lily nodded.
“Is she hurt?”
Another nod.
“Who hurt her?”
Lily’s eyes squeezed shut.
“Daddy.”
I looked at the deputy.
He heard.
“Name?”
I answered before Lily could.
“Marcus Kane.”
The name tasted exactly the same after seven years.
Bitter.
The deputy asked:
“Address?”
I did not know.
That humiliation struck harder than it should have.
I had no idea where my sister lived.
Rosa did.
Apparently.
She had kept Christmas cards.
Not from Sarah directly.
One from an old mutual friend had included an address three towns east.
Rosa retrieved it.
The deputy radioed.
Road units were dispatched.
The ambulances transported the children to Cascade Valley Medical Center.
I went with Lily.
Rosa followed in my SUV with a deputy driving because I refused to wait.
At the hospital, they treated hypothermia.
Lily’s feet worried me.
Cold injury.
Not clearly frostbite yet.
The twins were more stable than I expected.
Mild hypothermia.
Dehydration.
One had a respiratory infection.
Both underweight.
Their names came from Lily.
“Owen.”
She pointed weakly.
“And Ethan.”
“Brothers?”
She nodded.
“Mommy’s babies.”
I sat beside her bed.
“Lily.”
She looked at me.
“How did you know where I lived?”
“Mommy told me.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“What did she say?”
Lily started trembling.
Not cold now.
Memory.
“Big glass house.”
“What else?”
“Lights.”
“Anything else?”
She closed her eyes.
“Uncle Nathan helps hearts.”
I looked away.
Cardiothoracic surgeon.
Sarah had told her.
She had spoken about me.
May you like
Maybe often.
Even after I spent seven years not speaking about her.
Related Stories
