The Chair by the Window — The Night Nobody Helped Me
“She wants you to have it.”
I held the paper carefully.
My daughter had spent a night beside me, frightened and unheard.
I had survived, but survival did not erase what had happened to her.
“Where is Wyatt?” I asked.
Lena’s expression became guarded.
“He’s been calling.
The hospital knows you do not want visitors without your agreement.”