“Grandpa said I made him angry.”
I pulled a chair beside her bed.
“Adults are responsible for what they do, Maya. Even when they’re angry. Especially when they’re angry. You are not responsible for what happened.”
She watched my face as if trying to decide whether she could believe me.
Then she whispered, “I thought you weren’t coming.”
I took her hand.
“I will always come for you. Always.”
She closed her eyes, and I stayed beside her until her breathing settled.
Outside the room, the doctors continued their work. Inside it, I made another promise: no one would ever convince my daughter that being hurt was her fault.
The first call came twenty minutes later.
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