Chasing Abby(6)

Finally, I have to stop taking photos when I realize I’m about to lose my composure. Turning away from the hospital bed, I silently ask Abby’s forgiveness for photographing her while she’s in this state. She hates taking pictures, especially Christmas pictures, unless she’s had time to fix her hair and put on a nice outfit. The things thirteen-year-old girls worry about baffle me. I often wonder if she inherited this and all the traits I love so much about her from the Knights.
I turn around and Lynette is holding Abby’s hand again. “She’s lucky we adopted her,” she says. This time her voice is a bit louder than a whisper, as if she’s trying to convince me—or herself. “She probably wouldn’t have survived this long. She’s lucky to have us.”
“She needs to see those pictures,” I insist, but Lynette doesn’t look up or acknowledge my words.
Suddenly, Abby’s head jerks a bit harder and her fingers begin to move. My heart races as I rush to her side. Her eyes are still closed as tears begin to slide down her temples.
“What’s wrong?” I ask instinctively.
A soft whimper sounds in her throat where the breathing tube prevents her from speaking. She shakes her head, her eyes still closed as the tears come faster.
“Call the doctor!” I shout at Lynette, who is dumbfounded. Abby has been in a coma for seventeen days.
Abby’s cries become more high-pitched as she struggles to be heard through the tube. “Don’t try to speak, honey. The doctor’s coming. Just stay calm. Are you in pain?”
She shakes her head even more adamantly and finally she opens her eyes wide.
“Don’t be afraid,” I whisper as I reach for her hand, but she slaps my fingers away. “Abby, what’s wrong?” She reaches for the tape holding her breathing tube and I grab her hand to stop her. “Don’t do that.” She leans her head back and her muffled cries cease as she closes her eyes. “Honey, are you okay?”
She squeezes her eyes tightly shut and now it looks as if she’s in extreme pain. The nurse rushes in and I lock eyes with her. “I think she’s in pain.”
Abby’s cries begin again and she continues to shake her head. She wants us to know she is not in pain.
The nurse is confused. “Then what’s wrong, dear? Is it the tube in your throat? Because we can’t take that out. We’ll have to wait for the doctor to get here. He’s been paged. Can you wait a few more minutes?”
Lynette wears a guarded smile as she rounds the foot of the bed and reaches for me. She didn’t see what I just saw.
Abby’s cries grow stronger and the nurse appears worried. “You want a piece of paper to write something down?”
Finally, Abby nods and the nurse quickly leaves the room to retrieve a pen and paper, but Lynette beats her to it. She takes her phone out of her purse, opens up the notes app, and hands it to Abby. As she takes the phone from Lynette, she seems to be refusing to look at her. Her hand shakes as she types a few words then lets the phone drop onto her blanket.
The words on the screen break my heart into a million pieces: I want to see the pictures.

Chapter 4 - Lynette

THIS IS THE THIRD family dinner in as many days that Abby has refused to speak to us since we returned from the hospital four days ago. I want to shake her to force her to speak, but I know there’s only one thing that will bring back her voice. And I can’t give it to her.
She sits across from me, stabbing her dinner salad over and over again, oblivious of the shrill sound her fork makes every time it grates against her plate. She eats quickly, eager to get away from the parents who betrayed her. Brian also remains silent and, for once, I’m not happy about that.