“Mom told me everything. I’m in the hospital. Which floor are you on?” she asks.
“Fifth.”
Clicking off, I pace around the waiting room when a nurse walks up to me. “Your daughter is now in a room. You can see her.”
As the nurse leads me out the corridor, I see Pippa jogging to us. She takes my hand when she reaches us, squeezing it lightly.
“How is Julie?” she asks.
“We’re going to see her now.”
The nurse comes to a stop in front of an open door, motioning us to enter the room. There are two beds, and my daughter is in the one nearest to the door.
“Dad, Pippa. I’m so sorry,” she murmurs the second she sees us. The doctor is at the side of her bed, standing stiffly, his arms crossed.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, love,” I tell her. Pippa sits at the edge of the bed, hugging my daughter.
“It still hurts,” Julie whispers to her.
I turn to the doctor. “Why is she hurting?”
“She’s been in a surgery with a local anesthetic, which is starting to wear off. She’ll be fine.”
“Give her something for the pain.”
“Painkillers are not candy,” he says in a deadpan voice. “She will receive them at certain intervals.”
“I will not have my daughter be in pain—”
“Then I suggest you look after her more closely, so incidents like this don’t happen. Now, I suggest you step out of the room until you calm yourself down.”
Who the fuck does this moron think he is? I grind my teeth, barely restraining myself from replying.
“Eric,” Pippa says softly. “Calm down. Let’s go out for a little while.”
Nodding, I follow her out, leaving Julie with the doctor.
“She’ll be fine, Eric,” Pippa says once she’s in the corridor.
“Jesus, why does everyone tell me she’ll be fine?” My tone is harsher than I intended, and Pippa flinches, taking a step back. “That’s not the point. The point is that this could have been much worse.”
“Eric—”
“I shouldn’t have allowed her to go anywhere.”
“You’re blaming Mom?” Her voice is incredulous.
“No, I’m blaming myself. I lost focus.” I avert my eyes from her. “I should have kept watching her. Instead, I was….”
“Busy with me. Are you really going down this route? She’s a kid, Eric. They play. They get hurt. This could have happened even if she were with you at home.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” I say sharply. “Let’s not talk about this now. I’m not—”
“Why aren’t you even looking at me?” she asks in a small voice.
At that, I drag my gaze to her, frowning. “I don’t know. All I can concentrate on now is my daughter. I’m going to make some calls to inform the team I’ll be working from the hospital until Julie’s out.”
“We can take care of her in shifts, and—”