Gabe sprints forward to pick her up, but I shove him back.

"She could have a spinal injury!" I shriek. "Oh my god, oh my god, look at her!" I put my hand over her mouth. Gabe is already dialing 911 and I crouch next to Lucy.

"What do we do?" Gabe yells at me when he hangs up.

"Oh, um, um..." there's a giant cut straight across Lucy's tiny forehead and it's bleeding. Blood is seeping from her eyes. "Think!" I hit my head with my palm. "Okay, um, if she's crying blood it means that there's blood in her brain, I think, because her eyes are attached to the brain or something, so then the blood has to come out." I nod my head. "And um, if she injured her head, she could have injured the spinal cord, which means we can't move her. She could be paralyzed if we do it wrong."

"How do you know all of this?" Gabe demands, sirens blaring in the distance.

"I-I-watch a lot of TV." I say. "I'm so sorry baby girl, Mama's so sorry, I should have come with you to get your shoes."

Books are strewn all over the floor, but I make sure not to touch her. Gabe pulls out his phone and starts texting somebody.

"There has to be something we can do." I say. "She's not awake Gabe, she's not awake! Can't we help her?"

"No." He says. "We can't, you need to wait for the ambulance."

"Merde! Oh mon dieu, et si elle meurt?" I bury my head in my hands.

"I have no idea what you're saying." He says.

I hear a swift knock on the door and Gabe gets up, sprinting out of the bedroom. He comes back a minute later with two paramedics and a gurney.

They carefully lift my motionless baby girl onto the stretcher.

"Is she your child together?" The paramedic asks.

"I-yes." I say. "No, I, no, he's my husbands cousin!"

Their eyes widen and they just walk out.

Oh shit, do they think I'm sleeping with Gabe?

Whatever, I don't have time for this shit! I rush out of the house after them, leaving Gabe to lock up.

"Is she going to die? Is my little girl going to die? She's six, only six! We just adopted her a few weeks ago! She's just a baby! Please, you cannot let her die!"

"We are doing everything we can to help your daughter." He says.

_____

I bury my head in Gabe's shoulder, sobbing. His arm is around me, rubbing my left arm with his thumb soothingly.

"It's not your fault." He tells me for the millionth time. "Six years old is old enough to get her shoes on without you standing over her shoulder."

"Bug!" Dad says. My head snaps up to see him and Maman rushing towards me. I stand up and allow him to envelop me in his familiar fatherly embrace. "Oh my god, bug." Papa says. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

He pulls away and Maman wraps me into a hug too.

"What happened?" Papa asks.

"We were in the bedroom and we heard a crash and she was screaming and then she just stopped." Gabe says. "When we got in there, the bookcase was on her head and she was unconscious. Blood was coming out of her eyes and she had a giant cut going down her forehead."

Papa puts his hand on his mouth.

"She will be okay." He says seriously. "She has to." He hesitates then. "Where's Nathan?"

"He's at work." I mumble.

"He's picking up the kids and then he's coming." Gabe says.

Maman looks between Gabe and I, a skeptical expression on her face. Papa wears the same expression.

"You were in the bedroom?" Papa asks slowly, looking between Gabe and I, his eyes resting on my hair.

It's windy outside and I've been running my fingers through it so much.

I have sex hair.

When they walked in, my head was on Gabe's shoulder.

Oh god, this looks bad.

"Yeah." Gabe says. "She's was getting dressed." He shakes his head, oblivious to what my parents are thinking.

Before I can open my mouth to reply, the whole family comes in at once, except for Nathan and the kids and Harper. Nobody has their kids with them. Gabe told me while I was sobbing that Harper is picking up everyone's kids.

The only one who is here is Opal, who has red rimmed eyes.

She runs right up to me, throwing her arms around my neck.

"Is she okay?" She asks.

I hug her back.

"I do not know, we have not heard anything."

She pulls away, rubbing her face.

"She was bleeding from her eyes?" Annie asks me. I nod my head and sit back down next to Gabe.

Everyone is looking between us. Annie purses her lips. "Where is my son?"

"He's coming." I mumble. "He was at work and now he's getting the kids."

She nods slowly.

"And uh, why was Gabe there?" She asks, gesturing to her nephew.

"I was taking her and Lucy to the doctor because Lucy is sick. We were in the bedroom when it happened." Gabe responds. "Why?"

"And Nathan was a work?" She asks slowly.

Before I have a chance to respond, Nathan comes rushing in with the four kids, his eyes wild.

"A bookcase fell on her?" Nathan asks, walking over to me. "How? Where were you? Is she okay? Gabe said she was bleeding from her eyes? What were you doing that you couldn't watch a six year old? You were so busy that she managed to make a bookshelf topple over on top of her?"

The whole family is dead silent.

This looks bad.

My mouth opens and closes a few times.

"Nathan," I start.

What if I killed our child? I should have waited to get dressed.

"Apparently Nathan, she was in the bedroom with Gabriel." Aunt Clara says, shooting daggers at her son.

"Wait." Gabe says, slowly understanding what everything is insinuating.

Harper takes in my disheveled appearance at the same time Nathan does.

Nathan shoves his hands in his pockets, his eyes studying my face for a long time, and then he looks at Gabe and back at me.

Oh god, what if they think we're sleeping with each other? I haven't done anything! I was getting clothes on to take her to the doctor! This could have happened to anybody! Even if I was alone, this still would have happened! If Gabe got caught in traffic and showed up ten minutes later, it still would have happened!

I see Nathan's face fill with hurt for just a second, and then he looks back to me. He just looks conflicted, like he doesn't believe them but he doesn't not believe them.

I open my mouth to defend myself, but I'm cut off by my Maman's voice.

"They were practically cuddling when we walked in here. She was getting dressed." She says, shaking her head at me in disapproval.

My jaw opens slightly. Gabe lets out a groan of frustration and buries his head in his hands, shoving his fingers through his hair.

Fuck this, I'm not going to sit here and be accused of some bullshit when I haven't done anything wrong.

I stand up abruptly and start to walk out, but a strong hand latches onto my wrist.

I whip around. Nathan doesn't release is hold on me.

Our eyes lock, and I just give him a pathetic look.

The fight was only five days ago and while things are better, fairly normal, I can tell he's still upset with me.

But when Amanda Baldwin accused him of leaving her and their baby and he reacted accordingly to what he would act like if it was true, I defended him.

I didn't say anything until I was sure though, because all signs pointed at her telling the truth.

But I knew Nathan, and Nathan wouldn't do that.

So we stand there, the room thick with tension, his hand locked around my wrist. He loosens his grip, releasing me, his eyes studying me.

"I-" Nathan cuts off when a doctor walks into the waiting room.

"I am looking for the parents of Lucille Reed?"

Nathan drops my wrist, both of us turning toward the doctor. He runs his fingers through his hair and walks over to us, his steps calculated and confident.

"Your daughter sustained severe injuries to her head. She fractured her skull while getting a severe concussion. She is okay now, but she can't leave the hospital. She's young and we want to monitor her. We had to do burr holes, which is where we drill into her head to relieve fluid. She has stitches along her forehead along with bruising behind her eyes."

I bury my head in my hands. This is my fault. This is all my fault.

"But she's okay? Or she will be?" Nathan asks.

"Yes." He says. "But there's a catch."

My head snaps up.

What kind of catch?

"Your daughter does not remember that she was adopted. She thinks she still lives with her abusive foster mother. She thinks her injuries are from the beating her foster mother gave her."

She doesn't remember us? But...but it's January, and I met her early last month.

She cut out all her memories of us?

This is some cruel joke.

My family thinks I'm cheating on my husband with his cousin and my baby girl just got her head drilled into and lost all of her good memories because I didn't follow her up the stairs to get her shoes on.

I swallow the growing lump in my throat.

"S-so you're telling me that my daughter doesn't remember anything, that she got her head drilled into with a drill to relieve pressure in her brain, that she has a crack in her skull." I say. "Because I didn't follow her to get her shoes?"

He just looks at me and says nothing.

Suddenly I feel like a backstabbing, cheating wife and horrid mother who deserves nothing but trash from the world.

How could I do this to my little girl.

Without a word, I grab my purse and walk out, ignoring the calls or protest from my family.

_____

The house stands tall and proud, the familiar stone exterior looking back at me. The brown trim makes it look so homey.

It looks as though nothing has changed, but they cut down the tree in the front yard. I frown.

I loved that tree.

Isn't this like, some intrusion of privacy here? I wouldn't know, but I take a deep breath and walk up to the door. The doorbell Nathan puts in stares back at me. I reach out and press it. I hear the ringing that I used to respond to.

A couple moments later, the door opens.

A women who looks to be my age answers, blonde hair a green eyes peering back at me.

"Hello." She smiles, looking over my shoulder to see no car in the driveway. "Are you the new neighbor?"

"No, I uh...took an Uber." I hesitate.

"Oh..." she trails off.

"Sorry, this is weird." I say. "Nevermind, I'll just go."

I turn to go, but I hear her laugh.

"It's okay. What's wrong?"

I turn around slowly, meeting her green eyes.

My life is shit, that's what's wrong. Things were amazing. I loved my life, I had a great family and then I got shot, and things went spiraling down. I feel like I was thrown into a well and my hands feel sore and bloody from clawing out, but when I reach the top, I slip down. I feel like Nathan is at the top, watching me struggle. He has the rope in his hand but he won't throw it down to help me.

I know, okay? I fucked up. I always do. I fucked up by making Raylen drive that car. I almost killed all five kids because I'm a fucking bitch who can't stay in the house for more than a week. I'm so pent up with problems that I can't let out, because I let them out by riding Lucia or my horse and I can't do either of those things. My shoulders to cry on can't even look at me because i'm reckless and careless. My daughter has no idea who I am and she might never remember, and it's all my fault.

There are a lot of things wrong, and I remember being so happy here. This house is where I grew out of that girl that had walls and transformed into the women that raised kids with her husband.

I thought if I could touch this house again, I might feel it. Maybe it'll trigger what I lost. Maybe I can turn back into the women my husband wants me to be.

"I used to live here." I say quietly. "And I just, um..." I point to the doorbell, tears in my eyes. "My husband put that in." I whisper.

Her eyes flood with understanding, studying me for a second.

"Do you want to come in?" She asks.

My eyes widen.

My jaw opens and closes a few times, and then I nod my head.

"Please." She steps aside and opens the door wider.

I swallow, walking into the house.

The first thing I notice is that the white tile that used to be on the floors is now the same wood that is in the rest of the house. The wall has been painted from a cream to just stark white. The wood paneling that was real oak has been painted white, but I see the grooves against the paneling next to the staircase. I walk over to it, crouching down.

"Do you know what those scratches are from?" She asks thoughtfully. I smile.

"They're my sons grow marks." I run my hands over them, looking at the last one. It was the day we moved out. RJIR is engraved next to it in Nathan's handwriting.

I feel my heart clench as I remember that day.

"Daddy, I think I got taller!" Raylen exclaims, peering up at Nathan with bright brown eyes. Nathan looks down at him in his spot at the bar.

"I think you did buddy, you're almost as tall as me now!"

I smile sliding Raylen his sandwich.

"Eat up bud, we have a house to look at." I say.

Neomie squeals loudly, slapping her hands.

"Yeah!" I say, clapping with her. I lean down and pick her up from where she's standing at my feet. She's slobbering from teething.

Nathan reaches out and tickles her. She giggles loudly, scrunching up her neck to stop him from getting to her neck.

"Daddy, can we mark me again?" Raylen asks. Nathan stops tickling Emie and looks at Raylen.

"Sure kid, let's do it now." Nathan grabs Raylen's small body and throws the three year old over his shoulder, sauntering off to the dining room. I grab the box cutter and follow him, shifting Noemie on my right arm. Nathan helps Raylen stand properly and marks the spot into the dark wood.

"Look at that!" Nathan exclaims, showing Raylen that he's grown a full inch.

He's growing up too fast. One day he's going to be a teenager and he's going to hate me.

I have tears in my eyes from the memory. We were so happy.

I straighten back up, turning to the women standing behind me.

"Sorry." I say. "I feel like I'm intruding."

"Nonsense." She says. "I was making tea. Do you want some?"

I hesitate.

"Sure." I nod.

She walks to the kitchen and I follow her.

It looks relatively the same, but they painted all the real oak wood white.

What a waste.

She heats up the tea, turning to me thoughtfully.

"Do you know who built the treehouse in the back?"

"You still have it?" I gasp, moving to the window.

The treehouse still sits in the tree. It looks old now, lopsided even, but it's there.

"My husband built that after we moved in." I smile. "It looked a lot better back then though." I frown. "And the windows?" I open the screen. "My husband put these in." I turn around to the basement door. "He put in the basement door too, because I was pregnant with our first child when I moved in and he was afraid he would fall down the stairs. Oh, and the garage door opener? He did those too. And the outlet covers used to be so hideous, but he changed them."

"He sounds like a handy man." She says gently.

"He was." I mutter.

I know she probably thinks Nathan is dead, but lately I feel like he really is dead.

How could he believe I cheated on him with Gabe?

He walked right into the waiting room and started attacking me with questions on how this happened, where I was.

A few months ago he would have walked right into the waiting room and started kissing me and checking me for injures and asking me over and over if I was okay, telling me it's not my fault.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out.

Beau: where did you go odeletta

Not, are you okay?

But where did you go.

He didn't even call me amour. I sigh slowly.

"Actually, I'm sorry but i'm going to have to say no to tea." I tell the women. "Thank you so much for letting me come in." I give her a sad smile. "But I have to go."

"Oh, okay." She says. "I'll walk you out."

_____

I get out of the Uber, staring at the giant brick house.

It used to be so beautiful, even in the winter, but right now, it just looks destroyed.

The house we live in right now, it's not home to me.

This is home to me. This is the house I raised my kids in, all four of them. I changed diapers in this house, potty trained every kid in this house, got each kid ready for their first day of school in this house. Tears were shed in this house, smiles were shared, so many holidays.

And now it's just broken, a shattered mess, and it feels like the house we're in now is the bandaid to cover up the mess.

The driveway remains unplowed, every single window shattered. The barn is the only thing that shows any sign of life because there's my Papa's footprints in the snow leading up to it.

This property has miles upon miles of acres we own, while the new house has only a full acre.

Nathan shut off all of the electricity, cut off the water.

There's nothing left in this house of ours, but yet it still feels like home.

All we left is the furniture and the blankets.

My feet start moving on command, walking up the yard to the front door. It's closed now, but I push it open.

The house is destroyed, with the windows shattered, all the weather has gotten in, so there's random patches of snow on the floor.

I walk in further, making my way up the stairs, and stand on the balcony where I was shot.

I used to stand here and wait for the bus, because the giant window in the front allows a full access to the front of the house, along with the back.

The moment we walked in the house when we were looking at it, I had Noemie on my hip and Nathan has Raylen's hand in his.

I almost died at how perfect it was.

With real wood floors, white stairs with a wood top, white walls with pillars in the dining room holding up the entrance, I was shellshocked. The house was perfect.

But now I stand in the foyer and it just reminds me of how destroyed the house is. This is home.

This is our house, and we abandoned it.

By abandoning this house, I feel like we abandoned my marriage.

Nathan and I used to see eye-to-eye on everything when it came to parenting, so why all the sudden we don't is beyond me.

I feel like the only way to fix the issues in my life is to fix this house.

So without thinking, I shut the front door and walk into the kitchen. I go into the little pantry-type closet behind the kitchen and grab the broom and dust pan.

_____

It took me three hours to sweep the entire house until I couldn't see a speck of glass left. I dumped all of it into the big black garbage can.

I know I should be at the hospital with my daughter but I can't handle facing her when she thinks it's my fault and my family thinks I'm sleeping with Gabe.