“It’s the little white house after the broken bridge. There’s a blue mailbox, but it leans sideways.”
Daniel looked toward the receptionist.
“Call county dispatch.”
Lily watched the nurses carry the twins away.
“Where are they going?”
“To a special room where we can warm them,” Maria said.
“Will they wake up?”
“We are going to do everything we can.”
Lily’s eyes filled.
“My mommy said hospitals help people.”
“She was right.”
“I tried to feed them.”
Maria looked at her blistered hands.
“What did you give them?”
“Water.”
“How?”
“With a spoon. But they wouldn’t swallow.”
“You did your best.”
Lily’s shoulders began shaking.
Daniel removed his white coat and wrapped it around her.
“And your father?” he asked. “Where is he?”
Lily stared straight at him.
“I don’t have a daddy.”
The words were too practiced.
Too flat.
As though she had said them before and learned that adults usually stopped asking afterward.
