The Bad Things (Book 5)

Chapter 9. Stormy

            The doctors wouldn't allow us to be with Stormy. We sat in the waiting room. Abigail held onto me and cried for a long time. She finally managed to calmly tell us what happened. Stormy had been focused on a toy in her basket, and she didn't realize she was heading straight for the steps. Abigail screamed for her, but it was too late, and she had been too far from Stormy to make it to her in time.

Abigail dropped the phone and chased Stormy down the steps. Stormy apparently hit almost every step on the way down. The mansion's steps were made of concrete, and it was a long way down. Abigail said when she first got down to the bottom, Stormy wasn't even breathing.

I didn't say anything to Abigail about me being at fault for it because I knew she would try to put the blame on herself. We weren't ready for that conversation yet.

My parents rushed into the emergency room. Both of them breathing heavily. They stopped and stared at all of us.

"What happened?" Dad asked me.

"Stormy went down the stairs on her tricycle. We don't know how she's doing yet. They haven't told us much," I said.

A doctor walked into the room. "Stormy Vasquez's parents?"

"That would be us," Abigail said. She grabbed my hand and pulled me from the chair. The others stood up curiously and moved toward the doctor. "Is she okay?"

"She took quite the fall. She had a seizure from the head trauma. She's likely to have more. We had to keep her in a medically induced coma to stop them. One of her arms is broken, and two of her ribs. Stormy will make it, but she'll be here a while. Even when she does go back home, you will have to keep her on bed rest. Right now, it is the seizures that concern us. We'll have to try out different medications to stop them," he said.

"Can we see her?" I asked.

"Yes, of course. Just the parents for now. Perhaps other visitors in a couple of days." The doctor gestured for us to follow.

I turned to my family. "Thanks for coming down here. We'll keep you posted. Sean, Chelsea, you two can ride back with Angel. I'll probably be back later to get some clothes."

"Okay," Sean said.

Mom hugged Abigail and me. "Call us and let us know how she is doing. Poor little thing."

"We will," Abigail whispered.

Abigail and I followed the doctor to the room where they kept Stormy. We stepped around the curtain. Abigail threw her hand over her mouth and sobbed as soon as Stormy came into view.

"My baby," Abby said. She stumbled through the room, pushing things out of her way that kept her from getting to Stormy.

At that moment, I realized that Abigail was much stronger than me. I couldn't move. A numbing sensation when up my spine and suddenly paralyzed me as I stared at Stormy. Nothing could prepare anyone for something so horrible.

Stormy stood about three and a half feet tall and only weighed forty pounds, average for a four-year-old. What wasn't so average about Stormy was her beauty, intelligence, and compassion. In my mind, she was just a baby.

"Andy," Abigail murmured. "Are you okay?"

"I'm going to go back to the house and get some clothes," I said stiffly. "Do you want anything in particular?"

"Um, my phone is near the bedroom door, probably still on the floor. Could you grab it so that I can call Mom?" Abigail's eyes clouded with worry.