Chapter 3
The pediatric ICU at West China Hospital was on the seventh floor of the inpatient building.
Layla ran all the way from the parking lot, her heels clicking urgently on the marble floor. The rapid sound made an old man waiting for the elevator shoot her a curious look.
The elevator had stopped on the twelfth floor and wasn't moving.
She spun around and slipped into the stairwell, racing up seven flights without stopping. By the time she grabbed the railing, her legs felt like jelly.
The ICU door was a heavy, deep gray, and the visiting hours sign said two to three in the afternoon.
Layla checked the time.
It was 3:47.
She took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell.
The intercom buzzed, and a flat female voice came through.
"Visiting hours are over," the voice said.
"I know, I know it's over, nurse," Layla said, pressing close to the intercom, her voice starting to tremble.
"My son Camryn is in bed seven. I just got back from out of town, My flight was delayed. Can I please just see her for a second, just one quick look?"
There was silence on the other end.
"I haven't seen her in five days," Layla's voice faltered, almost breaking. "Just one minute, I'm begging you."
A few seconds later, the door unlocked with a click.
As she stepped inside, the strong smell of disinfectant washed over her, mixed with a faint medicinal bitterness from the fever meds.
The nurse on duty glanced up from behind the glass window and jerked her chin toward the end of the hallway.
Bed seven was at the very end, right by the window.
Layla hurried over, almost breaking into a run.
Camryn was lying there.
The little blanket was pulled up to his chest, making him seem so tiny.
His cheeks were sunken and pale, his lips dry and split with tiny cracks.
A clear oxygen tube was taped to his cheek and fitted to his nose.
An IV was taped to the back of his right hand, wrapped round and round with white tape, making his little hand look like a tiny mummy.
His eyes were closed.
His lashes cast faint shadows beneath his eyelids, fluttering gently as he breathed.
The thin blanket over his chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths.
Layla stood by the bed, her hand hovering in the air, afraid to touch her.
She was scared she might wake Camryn.
But what scared Layla even more was the thought that if Camryn woke up, he might just turn away from her.
"Camryn," Layla called out.
Her voice shook so badly she could hardly speak.
"Mommy's here," she whispered.
Camryn didn't move at all.
Layla crouched down, getting closer, her tears falling onto the white sheets, leaving dark spots.
She heard footsteps behind her.
Soft footsteps stopped at the doorway.
Layla turned around.
Alfie was standing there.
Alfie's navy hoodie was a wrinkled mess, the collar tugged off to one side, sleeves shoved up like he'd just thrown them on without thinking.
His hair stuck out in every direction, dark circles smudged under his eyes, and the whites were shot through with red.
He had a thick layer of stubble on his chin, like he hadn't bothered with a razor in days.
Layla had known Alfie for seven years now,
But she'd never seen him look this wrecked before.
"Let's talk outside," Alfie said, his voice low and rough. He turned and walked out.
Layla followed him.
At the end of the hallway was the family waiting area, two rows of plastic chairs, a table with a half-empty water bottle, and a few crumpled tissues scattered around.
Alfie sat down, hands clasped, elbows on his knees, head lowered.
Layla stood across from him, waiting for him to say something.
From down the hall, the wheels of a nurse's cart rattled closer, then slowly faded away.
"Camryn started running a fever on Monday afternoon," Alfie said, his voice so low it sounded like he was forcing the words out from deep in his throat.
"It was just over 102 degrees. I thought it was just a regular cold, so I gave her some fever meds."
He paused.
"I called you six times. Every single time, your phone was off.
"By Monday night, her fever shot up to 104 degrees, so I rushed her to the children's hospital ER."
Layla stayed silent.
Alfie said, still not looking up, "The doctor asked where you were. I told him you were out of town for work and I couldn't reach you.
"When we got to the hospital, there were a few consent forms that needed your signature. I had to use your power of attorney."
He paused, his fingers clenching and unclenching.
"Early Tuesday morning, Camryn's fever spiked to 106.3 degrees. The chest X-ray showed she had severe pneumonia.
"The doctor said she might need breathing support and asked if I agreed. I signed the forms alone."
Layla's breath caught in her chest.
"My parents were still on the high-speed train, and yours were back home." Alfie finally looked up at her.
"I was sitting there all alone outside the ICU. That flimsy consent form felt like it could tear at any second, and my hand was shaking so badly I could barely hold the pen when I signed it."
Tears welled up in Layla's eyes, blurring her vision.
"The nurse came over and asked why I couldn't get a hold of you," Alfie said, his voice cracking, rough and raw. "Do you know what I told her?"
He paused.
"I said you were on vacation, and maybe your phone didn't have any signal."
He let out a laugh, but there was no warmth in it at all.
"The way the nurse looked at me She thought we were divorced. She thought you were the kind of mom who couldn't care less about her kid."
Alfie said, his voice flat, like he was biting back something, "I couldn't explain. I mean, what was I supposed to say?
"That my wife was off in Varachonar with her male bestie, and she switched off her phone so she wouldn't have to deal with anything?"
Layla parted her lips, but no words came out.
"So was it really no signal?" Alfie interrupted, holding out his phone for her to see. "Or did you just switch it off yourself?"
On the screen was a screenshot of Moises's social media feed.
There were posts from Arnorhen Lake, Mount Dragon, and Norshien Town.
Each post had a clear location tag, lively captions, and full signal bars showing.
"I had someone check out the inn you stayed at," Alfie said, his voice slow and rough, like every word was ground out.
"The Wi-Fi was solid, 5G everywhere. You were posting photos, texting, and checking out travel tips every day."
He put his phone away.
Alfie said, his voice low and bitter, "You were on your phone all the time.
"But you never even bothered to check in on your daughter."
Layla blurted out, her voice rising in panic, "That's not it. I just wanted to... It's not often I get to go away, so I wanted to really relax, so I just..."
"So you just decided to take a break from being a mom, too, huh?" Alfie shot back, his voice cold and biting.
Alfie stood up. He looked down at her, not with anger, but with a bone-deep exhaustion that felt like it could crush Layla, making it hard for her to even breathe.
"Whenever you went out with Moises before, even if it was late, you'd always send a text just to check in," Alfie said, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was holding himself together by a thread.
"But this time, you went completely off the grid for five days."
He paused.
"Layla, have you always wanted to prove you could do just fine without me?" Alfie said, his voice low and heavy.
Down the hall, the nurse's cart wheels rolled again, their steady, monotonous rhythm piercing the quiet like a needle.