end?” Never, he promised himself. Never in a thousand years. He was never coming back to this woman. But he knew he had to be here now, to calm her down again, until Gabriella came home. No matter how much he hated her, he knew he owed that much to Gabriella. He couldn't give up the rest of his life for her, but he could smooth things over for her, at least until she came home.
“I'll go up in a while,” he said calmly, pouring himself one last drink. He was grateful they had separate bedrooms. He would have been afraid to sleep in the same bed with her now, for fear that she might kill him. Knowing what she was capable of terrified him. He had warned Barbara of that, and tried to tell her how dangerous Eloise was. But Barbara foolishly insisted she wasn't afraid of her. She couldn't conceive of the monster she truly was. No one could. Except he, and Gabriella, who knew it only too well.
“I assume you're sleeping in your own room tonight,” she said as she walked out of the room, and he watched the train on her evening gown trailing behind her. But he didn't answer her, he was thinking of Gabriella again, and he didn't have the strength to say another word. He just watched her as she walked slowly up the stairs.
When Gabriella woke up in the hospital that night, she had no idea where she was. Everything was white and clean and looked very stark. There were shadows on the ceiling, and a small light in the corner of the room. A nurse in a starched cap was looking down at her, and as soon as Gabriella's eyes fluttered open, the young woman smiled at her. It was an unfamiliar sight to Gabriella. The nurse's eyes looked very kind.
“Am I in heaven?” she asked softly, convinced, and relieved to think, that she had died.
“No, you're at St. Matthew's Hospital, Gabriella. And everything is fine. Your daddy went home a while ago, but he said he'd come back tomorrow to see how you are.”
She wanted to ask if her mother was angry at her for being here, and if she ever had to go back there again. If she never got well again, couldn't she just stay? There were a thousand questions in her head, but she was afraid to do anything more than nod, and when she did, it hurt. A lot.
“Try not to move around too much.” The young nurse had seen her wince. She knew the concussion was giving her a severe headache, and there was still blood draining from her ear. “Your daddy said you fell down the stairs, and you're a very lucky girl that he found you when he did. We're going to take good care of you while you're here.” Despite the pain, Gabriella nodded gratefully again, and closed her eyes.
She cried in her sleep after that, the shifts changed, and an older nurse came to watch over her for several hours. She checked her vital signs and changed the dressing on the wound on her leg. She stood and stared at it for a long time, and then back at the little girl's face. There were questions in the nurse's mind that she knew would never be answered, questions that should have been asked, but no one would have dared. She had seen injuries like this before on children, but usually children with wounds like these were poor. They went home anyway, just as this one would. And most of the time, they came back again. She wondered if Gabriella would too, or perhaps they had frightened themselves enough this time, and it wouldn't happen again. It was hard to say.
Gabriella slept fitfully till morning, and most of the time for the next few days. Her father came to see her twice, and explained to the doctors and the nurses that her mother wasn't able to come because she was ill. They understood and sympathized with him, and complimented him on his little girl. She was so good, so sweet, so well behaved. She never gave them any trouble, never asked for anything, and was grateful for everything they did. She never even spoke to them. She just lay there, watching, but she smiled whenever she saw him.
He came to take her home on New Year's Day, and brought some clothes for her to wear. She left the hospital in a navy