Chapter 2
I regained consciousness in the hospital.
Doctors were urgently wheeling me, and I heard a nurse calling my name, "Noemi, can you hear me? Noemi!"
The air was thick with the scent of disinfectant and the metallic tang of blood.
I struggled to open my eyes, reaching out to grasp the doctor's hand.
"Please, save my daughter, Doctor. I’m begging you, save her."
"Don't worry about your daughter right now; focus on yourself. Can you tell me your name?"
The question sent me into a spiral of confusion.
What is my name?
My mind was blank, my abdomen searing with pain.
Suddenly, an image of a young man flashed in my mind.
He pointed at me angrily, "I just asked you to come to Thanksgiving dinner!"
"Noemi, Eleanor and I are over. What are you thinking?"
"Noemi, you're being ridiculous. It’s just a holiday dinner!"
Then the scene shifted to him driving, swerving suddenly on the freeway.
He spoke coldly, "If you won't let me go, then we'll go down together."
With that memory, everything came flooding back to me.
I told the doctor, "My name is Noemi Gardner."
My voice was raspy. "Please, please save my daughter."
I was terrified, scared she would leave me.
She's only three years old.
Tears streamed down my face, filled with fear and resentment.
As I was wheeled into the emergency room, a nurse kept trying to reach Chris.
"What’s going on? Why does your husband keep hanging up?"
"Noemi, do you have any other family?"
"You're in critical condition now; we need to contact your family."
Despair washed over me.
Apart from my daughter and Chris, I have no other family.
My parents are gone.
"Doctor, forget about me. Save my daughter. I have money, it's all on my phone."
"Your daughter is alright. You need to stay strong."
The nurse held my hand.
I wanted to respond, but the pain in my body was overwhelming.
It felt like someone was carving into me with a knife.
So much pain.
"Then...can I see my daughter?"
"We'll take you to her soon. Focus on yourself for now."
Slowly, the pain became unbearable, and my consciousness began to fade.
I desperately tried to open my eyes, but no matter how hard I tried, they wouldn’t open.