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He's still alive.
I pull the cellar door shut.
He can scream all he wants. No one will hear him.
Upstairs in Elle's room, I sit with Amelia. She is in a chair, right next to the bed, her eyes locked onto our daughter.
"You should try and get some rest," I say after a while.
"No, I won't leave her." She replies without looking at me.
"Elle is going to be fine. You need to rest." I try again.
"No."
I shake my head. "I'm going to make you some food at least then."
I head down to the kitchen. The chef made dinner for us, but no one ate, and it's in the oven, keeping warm.
I dish up a small amount of the lasagna onto a plate for Amelia. I know she isn't going to eat a lot, but she has to at least eat something.
I carry the plate upstairs, but when I walk into Elle's room I find Amelia with her head resting on Elle's bed, fast asleep.
She looks so uncomfortable; I can't possibly leave her there.
I put the lasagna down on the dresser and walk quietly over to Amelia, scooping her up into my arms.
She mumbles a little, then rests her head on my shoulder.
I carry her through to my bed. She is not sleeping in the guest room anymore.
Placing her gently into the bed I start untying her shoes to pull them off.
She wakes up frightened.
"Elle." She mumbles.
"Lay down, Amelia. You have to sleep. I will call you as soon as Elle wakes up, I promise."
Amelia is too tired to keep her eyes open and they practically roll back in her head as she flops back down onto the pillow. Within seconds she is fast asleep again.
I pull the blankets up around her and tuck her in. Then I lean forward and softly kiss her cheek.
"It's all going to be ok now," I whisper.
AMELIA
My baby girl is lying on her bed, still sedated from the anesthesia. I'm terrified. I'm scared. I want to hear her voice and know everything is ok.
I can hear the gentle rhythm of her heart; I can see her blood pressure and oxygen levels. I can see she's fine - but it's not enough.
I need to hear her voice.
"Baby, please wake up," I say too softly to disturb her. I know the doctor is right. It's better to let her draw herself awake. It's better to let her tiny body rest as much as it needs to.
But it's so difficult to wait.
The last twenty-four hours have been absolute hell.
