Chapter 5 - THE HOSPITAL ROOM CONFRONTATION
Three days later, Emma finally opened her eyes.
"Mommy...?" her tiny, raspy voice called out.
I fell to my knees beside her bed, tears pouring down my face, pressing my cheek against her soft hand. "I'm right here, baby. Mommy's right here."
"I want grilled cheese," she whispered, her little hand weakly patting my hair.
Marcus broke down crying in the corner. Josh smiled, shaking his head with a massive sigh of relief. The doctor walked in five minutes later, checked her pupillary response, and declared that the brain swelling had subsided significantly. She was going to recover completely.
The relief was short-lived.
An hour later, a soft knock came on the door. It wasn't the police. It was my father.
He looked ten years older. His suit was wrinkled, his hair uncombed, and his eyes bloodshot. He stepped into the room timidly, holding a small pink teddy bear.
Marcus instantly stood up, blocking the path to Emma's bed. "You have five seconds to turn around."
"Marcus, please," my father begged, his voice cracked and hollow. "I just... I brought something for Emma. I just want to talk to my daughter."
I looked at Marcus and nodded slightly. "Let him speak. But stand right there."
My father walked forward slowly, keeping his distance from the bed. He looked at Emma, who was staring at him with big, curious blue eyes, completely unaware of the horror her grandparents had brought into her life.
"Becca..." my father choked out. "Your mother is in a holding cell. They set bail at $50,000. We don't have that kind of cash liquid right now because... because Charlotte’s vendor deposits drained our savings."
I stared at him in utter disbelief. "You spent your bail money on Charlotte's party?"
"We thought you were going to pay it back!" he cried out defensively, his true colors flashing for a split second before he forced his voice soft again. "Becca, if your mother stays in jail until trial, she will lose her pension. Her job suspended her today. Charlotte's husband was fired from his firm because of the online harassment. Our family is destroyed!"
"You destroyed it, Dad," I said, my voice as cold as ice. "The day you called me while my child was in surgery to ask about a balloon arch."
"We were stressed!" he pleaded, dropping to his knees near the foot of the bed. "Your mother wasn't thinking! She was angry, she grabbed the mask without realizing what it was—"
"She looked me in the eyes and said, 'She's gone now,'" I snapped, standing up and towering over him. "She knew EXACTLY what she was doing. She wanted to hurt me, and she didn't care if she killed my daughter to do it."
"She's your MOTHER!" he roared, desperate.
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"She was my mother," I corrected him softly. "Now she's just a convict. Get out of my sight before I call the guards to throw you out too."
My father stared at me, realizing for the very first time in his life that his quiet, obedient daughter was gone. I had cut the cord, and there was no coming back. He stood up slowly, dropped the pink teddy bear into the trash can by the door, and walked out without another word.
