“Has she woken up?”
“I can’t share more than that.”
Yo asentí.
I thanked him.
Then I went to my car and cried.
No estaba llorando por Kenzie.
I was crying because somewhere in Peoria, another mother was living through a nightmare.
While I had spent that terrible morning fighting to get back to my newborn, she had been waiting for doctors to tell her whether her daughter would survive.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
La adolescente había estado esperando a que su madre terminara el trabajo.
Debería haber estado a salvo en ese coche estacionado.
Debería haber estado durmiendo.
She should have gone home.
Instead, she was in a hospital bed because my sister had made a terrible decision and then fled.
I sat behind the steering wheel for a long time before I could leave.
That evening, my husband finally returned home after receiving authorization to leave training early.
