Chapter 2 - What Rosie would not tell me in the car
I did not drive directly home.
I drove to the pediatric emergency department.
That decision probably prevented me from doing several stupid things.
Rosie sat in the back seat clutching her stuffed fox.
I had retrieved it from my car before leaving my parents’ driveway.
She stared out the window.
Every few minutes I looked at her through the mirror.
“You okay?”
She nodded.
Then ten seconds later:
“No.”
I almost asked what Bethany had done.
Instead I remembered something a pediatrician once told me after Rosie fell from playground equipment.
Ask what hurts.
Do not turn a frightened child into your witness interview.
So I said:
“Where do you hurt?”
“My cheek.”
“Anywhere else?”
“My arms feel funny.”
“Okay.”
Then:
“Do you feel safe with me?”
“Yes.”
That was enough for the drive.
My phone rang eleven times.
Mom.
Dad.
Daniel.
My cousin Hannah.
Bethany once.
I answered none.
Then a text appeared from Daniel.
I read it at a red light.
I have the video. I saved it. Don’t delete anything. Take Rosie to the hospital.
May you like
That was when I realized the phone on the dining table had not merely captured the glass.
Daniel knew something.
