Chapter Five #2
“The shot probably won’t make her sleep given how worked up she is.
The medicine I give her before I reduce her shoulder will make her sleep longer.
Honestly, sleep is the best thing for her.
With the medicine, we’ll watch her here a few hours until everything wears off.
My guess is, she’s going to sleep the better part of the day tomorrow and you should let her.
” The doctor’s tone was reassuring but firm.
“It’s the safest approach at this point. ”
One of the nurses gave Lily’s good hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be OK, sweetie. We’re going to help make your shoulder feel better.”
Lily screamed and sobbed, anything she might have said unintelligible as she continued to fight even the gentlest restraining hands.
She sounded feral and I felt the answering call inside me, demanding I remove her from the situation by any means necessary.
Since she needed to be here, I couldn’t make my wants a reality.
If I felt this helpless, I couldn’t imagine how Eliza felt.
Unable to stop myself, I stepped into the curtained bay, moving past Eliza and the doctor.
All the noise and chaos around Lily seemed to fade as I caught her eye, focusing on her small face flushed with tears and fear and sweat.
Recognition flashed across her features, momentarily cutting through her panic.
Her good arm reached out toward me, fingers stretching as if I were a lifeline in the middle of a storm.
She continued to scream, the wild scream of a wounded animal in incredible fear, her gaze focused on me now. “Cash! Cash!”
“I know, kid,” I said, taking another step closer. “Your shoulder’s playing tricks on you, huh?”
A nurse started to protest my presence, but the doctor held up his hand, watching with cautious curiosity.
I dropped to one knee beside the stretcher, putting myself at eye level with Lily.
Close enough she could see me clearly, but far enough I wasn’t crowding her or restricting the medical staff’s access.
“Remember when I sang to you in your room?” I asked, keeping my voice steady and calm. “How about I do that again while the doctors help fix your shoulder?”
Lily hiccupped through her tears and she continued to cry, but she’d calmed down enough she was more coherent now she had someone to focus on.
She reached out for me again, her fingers outstretched as she tried with all her might to reach me.
I carefully moved closer, letting her grab onto my fingers without jostling her injured arm.
Her small hand felt impossibly fragile in mine, her grip surprisingly strong.
“Look at me, Lily,” I said, squeezing her hand gently. “I need you to look right at me. Don’t watch what they’re doing. Just listen to my voice.”
I cleared my throat and began to sing. Not the lullaby from before, but a slow country melody my grandfather used to sing when I was young.
My voice was rusty at first, self-consciousness creeping in as I became aware of everyone listening.
I hadn’t performed for an audience since before prison.
But Lily’s eyes locked onto mine, wide and trusting, and suddenly nothing else mattered.
The song flowed easier as I continued, my voice finding its familiar path. The nurse approached Lily’s other side, alcohol swab in hand. I saw Lily’s eyes start to drift toward the movement, and I gently squeezed her hand again.
“Stay with me, kid,” I murmured, before picking the song back up seamlessly. I watched her small face relax slightly, her gaze returning to mine. Behind me, I heard Eliza’s soft intake of breath. I didn’t turn, but I felt her presence drawing closer.
The nurses worked quickly while I sang, prepping Lily’s small arm and sliding the IV needle home with practiced efficiency. Lily winced, her fingers tightening around mine, but she didn’t pull away or start thrashing again. I kept singing, the melody wrapping around us like a protective shield.
“Good job,” the nurse said softly to Lily when the IV was secured. “You’re very brave.”
The doctor moved in next, injecting something into the IV port. “This will help with the pain,” he explained, his voice gentler now. “If you feel sleepy, just doze off. When you wake up, it will all be over.”
I continued singing, watching as Lily’s breathing gradually slowed. The desperate edge left her expression, her features softening as the medication began to take effect. Her eyelids grew heavy, though she fought against their weight, determined to keep watching me.
As Lily grew sleepy, her grip on my hand relaxed slightly. The doctor nodded to his team and moved to the side of her injured shoulder.
“Keep singing,” he instructed me quietly. “This will only take a moment.”
I picked up the melody again, watching Lily’s face rather than what the doctor was doing.
Her eyes had grown unfocused with medication, but they still tracked my movements.
When the doctor manipulated her shoulder, her face tensed momentarily before relaxing again.
A small click reached my ears, and the doctor stepped back with a satisfied nod.
“All done,” he said. “The shoulder’s back in place. We’ll need to keep her arm immobilized to prevent it from dislocating again, but the immediate issue is resolved.”
Lily’s lips curved into a drowsy smile. “Doesn’t hurt anymore,” she mumbled.
“You did good, Lily. I’m so proud of you.” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. I started to pull my hand away, thinking she would want her mother now the crisis had passed.
Lily’s fingers tightened around mine with surprising strength. “You won’t go anywhere?” she asked, her voice slurring slightly from the medication.
“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away, kid,” I promised, the words coming without thought.
Satisfied with my answer, Lily’s eyelids fluttered closed.
Her breathing deepened into the even rhythm of sleep, though her hand remained firmly wrapped around my fingers.
I stayed kneeling beside her, unwilling to break the connection even though my leg had begun to cramp from the position and my other foot had gone numb a bit ago.
The medical staff moved around us, adjusting monitors and checking vitals.
Eventually, I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder and looked up to find Eliza standing beside me. Tears glistened in her eyes, but they weren’t the desperate, broken tears from earlier. Gratitude and trust shone in her expression and my chest tighten in response.
“Thank you.” Her whispered words were filled with emotion.
I nodded, unable to form a proper response.
The truth was, I didn’t understand my own actions any better than she did.
Something about Lily had gotten under my skin from the first night in her hospital room when she’d been so scared and upset, and now I couldn’t imagine walking away from her.
Or her mother. And that was the real problem because her mother didn’t know me.
I didn’t know her. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw Eliza.
As if reading my thoughts, Lily stirred slightly in her sleep, her small fingers squeezing mine once more before relaxing. I knew with absolute certainty I was exactly where I needed to be. Wild horses be damned.