Chapter 9
GEORGIA
“Lois!”
I’m on my knees beside her before I fully register moving, my hands hovering over her body, not sure where to touch, how to help.
“Give me space,” Dr. Akkhad orders, appearing with her medical bag. Her voice is calm, professional, but I can see the intensity in her movements as she kneels beside Lois.
I scramble back, my heart hammering.
This can’t be happening. Lois can’t— She was fine this morning. Tired, yes, but fine.
“What do you need?” Calvin asks Dr. Akkhad, his phone already in his hand. Calling for help won’t make much of a difference, though. It’s four hours here from the city, another four hours back. It’s not like an ambulance will do much for us.
“Water. And get me that folding cot from the medical tent. We need to get her out of the sun.”
People scatter to follow orders. Khalid and Edmond return with the cot, setting it up quickly in the shade of the dining tent. Calvin appears with water bottles. Fatima hovers nearby, wringing her hands.
And through it all, I can hear Ella crying in the distance, frightened by the commotion.
I should go to her. But I can’t leave Lois.
Dr. Akkhad is checking Lois’s pulse, her breathing, taking her temperature with a digital thermometer from her kit. Lois’s eyes flutter open, unfocused and confused.
“Wha—what happened?” Her voice is weak.
“You fainted,” Dr. Akkhad says gently. “Just lie still. I’m checking you over.”
“I’m fine. Just the heat…”
“Your temperature is a hundred and two point five. That’s not just heat.” Dr. Akkhad continues her examination, professional and thorough. She checks Lois’s lymph nodes, looks in her throat, asks questions about symptoms.
I kneel beside them, taking Lois’s hand. It’s clammy and hot at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” Lois whispers. “I didn’t want to be trouble.”
“You’re not trouble. You’re never trouble. Just rest.”
My throat is tight. At this point, Lois is closer to me than my own parents, who raised me to succeed but aren’t exactly what you’d called warm people. And she’s become more of a friend than any of the girls I was close to in New York. At this point, she might be my only friend.
And I’m the one who brought her here, to this scorching desert that just made her faint.
Dr. Akkhad sits back on her heels, her expression serious.
“I suspect it’s some kind of viral infection.
Could be a flu strain. Could be something she picked up during travel.
Either way, she needs proper medical care and rest. This environment—” she gestures at the desert around us “—is not conducive to recovery.”
“What are you saying?” I ask, though I already know.
“She needs to go back to the city. To a hospital, or at least a proper clinic with air conditioning and monitoring.”
My stomach drops. “When?”
“Today. As soon as we can arrange transport.”
“I’ll have someone drive here there,” Calvin says immediately.
I look down at Lois, who’s trying to sit up despite Dr. Akkhad’s restraining hand.
“No, I can stay. Georgia needs me.”
“Georgia needs you healthy,” Dr. Akkhad says firmly. “And you won’t get healthy here. I’m sorry, but this isn’t negotiable.”
Ella’s crying has escalated, and I can see Fatima trying to comfort her near the tent, but Ella wants me. She always wants me when she’s scared.
“Go,” Dr. Akkhad says, reading my face. “We’ll take care of Lois. Your daughter needs you.”
I squeeze Lois’s hand one more time and rush to Ella.
She lunges into my arms the moment I reach her, her small body shaking with sobs. “Mama, Mama, Mama.”
Did she see Lois fall down? At the least, she saw us all clustered around the older woman, could probably feel our panic.
“I’m here. I’ve got you. Ms. Lois had a little tumble, but she’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
But it’s not okay. Nothing about this is okay.
I walk her away from the commotion, bouncing and soothing, singing softly until her crying subsides into hiccups. By the time I return to the dining tent, arrangements are being made.
“Ahmed will drive her back,” Khalid is saying. “He can stay with her in the city, make sure she gets proper care, then return in a few days.”
“We’ll pay for everything,” Calvin adds. “Private doctor, hotel, whatever she needs. Dr. Akkhad said that she’ll be okay. She just needs a good bed, medicine, and to rest somewhere with air conditioning.”
“Thank you,” I manage, though my mind is racing ahead to the obvious problem.
Lois is leaving. Today. Which means I won’t have anyone to watch Ella.
I can’t work if I’m constantly watching a toddler. But I also can’t bring someone else in here to watch her. I can’t leave Ella with strangers. I won’t. She’s fourteen months old, in a foreign country, in the middle of the desert. She needs me or Lois, the only two people she trusts.
But I’m also the lead archaeologist on the project of a lifetime. I’m not heading back home. What I am is trapped between a rock and a hard place.
“How long until Ahmed can leave?” Dr. Akkhad asks.
“Thirty minutes,” Khalid responds. “Just need to pack some supplies for the journey.”
Everything happens quickly after that. Fatima helps Lois to her tent to pack her things. Dr. Akkhad prepares medications and written instructions. Ahmed checks the vehicle, ensures everything is ready for a medical transport.
I follow Lois into the tent, Ella still on my hip.
“I’m so sorry,” Lois says for the tenth time, moving slowly as she gathers her belongings. “I’ve ruined everything.”
“You haven’t ruined anything. You’re sick. That’s not your fault.”
“But Ella—”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Georgia, you can’t work and watch her at the same time. It’s impossible.”
“Then I’ll do the impossible.” I try to sound confident, but my voice wavers. “You just focus on getting better, okay? That’s all I need from you.”
Lois sits on the edge of the cot, looking exhausted and guilty. “What will you do?”
“I don’t know yet.” I shift Ella to my other hip. She’s getting heavy, and my arms are already tired. “But I’ll figure something out. I always do.”
Except I don’t know if that’s true this time.
Too soon, Ahmed is ready to leave. We all gather to see them off, but Lois doesn’t hug me or Ella—can’t, as she may get us sick. Assuming she hasn’t already passed it to us.
It breaks my heart to not hug her goodbye, and I just know her tears are because she doesn’t get to kiss Ella.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she promises.
“Take all the time you need. Really. Your health comes first.”
She waves goodbye to Ella, and the little girl waves bye-bye back without understanding the significance. Then they’re gone, the SUV disappearing into the desert in a cloud of dust.
“Well,” Edmond says kindly, “I suppose we should discuss new plans.”
We reconvene in the dining tent. Someone has made tea. Probably Fatima, who seems to solve every problem with food or beverages. I accept a cup gratefully and settle Ella on my lap.
“Obviously, this changes things,” Calvin says, standing at the head of the table like we’re in a boardroom, not a tent in the middle of nowhere. “We need to discuss options.”
“What options?” I ask, though I’m afraid I know where this is going.
“Well, we could…” He pauses, glancing at Ella. “We’ll hire someone from the city. A nanny. Someone qualified to watch children.”
“No.”
He stares at me like I’ve spoken another language. “Georgia.”
“I said no.” My voice is firm. “I’m not leaving my daughter with a stranger. Especially not out here.”
“It wouldn’t be out here. We could arrange accommodation in the city—”
“Absolutely not. I’m not sending my fourteen-month-old to stay in a hotel with someone I’ve never met. That’s non-negotiable.”
Is he insane? What on earth makes him think I would do such a thing?!
Calvin’s jaw tightens. “Then what do you propose?”
“I’ll keep her with me while I work.”
“That’s not practical.”
“It’s the only option.”
“Georgia, you can’t effectively lead an excavation with a toddler.”
“Watch me.”
The words come out harder than I intend, and I see several people around the table wince.
Calvin’s expression goes cold. “We’ve already discussed this. The project needs your full attention. We have limited time and specific goals.”
“And I’m committed to meeting them. But I’m also Ella’s mother, and she comes first. If you have a problem with that…
” I pause, my heart racing, knowing I’m about to gamble everything.
“Then I understand if this is a dealbreaker, and you need to replace me. This is my dream job, Calvin, but my daughter comes first.”
The silence is crushing. He just stares at me, and the only thing I can think of is how I just used his first name, which he hates me to do.
“Perhaps,” Dr. Akkhad says carefully, “we could help. We’re all here, after all. If Georgia needs someone to watch Ella for short periods, we can chip in.”
“I appreciate that,” I cut in, “but I’m not comfortable asking the team to babysit. You all have jobs to do.”
“So do you,” Calvin says flatly.
“And I’ll do it. With Ella nearby. People work with children around them all the time. I’ll set up a play area at the site, keep her under a canopy, bring activities. It’s not ideal, but it’s manageable.”
“Manageable,” Calvin repeats, and there’s something dangerous in his tone. “This is a professional archaeological excavation, not a daycare.”
“I’m aware of that.”
We stare at each other across the table, and I can feel everyone else holding their breath. I’m going to get fired. Right here, right now. He’s going to send me packing with Lois, and I’ll have gambled everything for nothing. But I can’t back down. I won’t. Not about Ella’s safety.
Finally, Calvin speaks. “Fine. You can keep her at the site. But if it impacts the quality or timeline of the work—”
“It won’t.”
“It better not.” He turns and walks out of the tent without another word.
The moment he’s gone, I sink back into my chair, adrenaline draining away and leaving me shaky.
“Well,” Edmond says after a moment, “that was intense.”
“Georgia,” Khalid says gently, “you know we would help. With Ella. If you need it.”
“I know. And I appreciate it. But…” I look down at my daughter, who’s been surprisingly quiet through all of this, playing with a spoon from the table. “She’s my responsibility. I’ll figure it out.”
“You’re allowed to accept help,” Dr. Akkhad points out.
“I know. I’m just… I’m not good at it.”
That’s an understatement. I’ve been doing everything alone for so long that accepting help feels like admitting failure.
But maybe, in this case, I don’t have a choice.
“Can I ask you something?” I say to the group. “Honestly?”
“Of course,” Edmond responds.
“Do you think I can do this? Work effectively with Ella here?”
They exchange glances.
“I think,” Dr. Akkhad says slowly, “that it will be challenging. But I’ve seen you work. You’re meticulous and passionate and brilliant. If anyone can make it work, it’s you.”
“And,” Khalid adds, “we’re a team. We support each other. That’s what teams do.”
The kindness in their voices makes my eyes burn with unshed tears.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
That evening, after Ella is asleep in our tent and the camp has quieted down, I stand outside staring at the excavation site. Calvin’s tent is lit from within, his silhouette visible against the canvas as he works at his laptop. He hasn’t spoken to me since our confrontation this afternoon.
I should probably apologize for snapping at him. Again. But I’m not sorry for my decision. I’d make the same choice a hundred times over. Ella is my daughter. My priority. And if Calvin can’t understand that, then working with him is going to be even harder than I thought.
But I didn’t come this far to give up now. Henry would have told me to trust my instincts. To do the work with integrity and passion. To remember why I became an archaeologist in the first place. So, that’s what I’ll do.
I’ll set up a play area under the work tent’s awning. I’ll keep Ella engaged with activities. I’ll do the most focused-oriented work during her naps, early in the mornings, late at night if necessary. I’ll prove that I can be both a devoted mother and a brilliant archaeologist.
I have to. Because the alternative… leaving, giving up, going home… it’s unthinkable.
This site holds answers. About Henry’s theories. About ancient civilizations. About love and devotion that lasted thousands of years. And I’m going to uncover those answers. I won’t be the first woman in all of history to get a job done with a child on my hip.