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She blinks once.
“Would you like me to care for Cora and Caleb?”
Izzy blinks once.
I squeeze her hand. “You got it. I’ll care for them as if they’re mine. Then, when you’re better, you’ll be able to care for them.”
She blinks twice.
“You don’t want to take care of them?” I ask, confused and slightly alarmed.
She blinks once.
“But you’re their mother, Izzy,” I state. The monitors begin to beep faster.
“Ame, she’s getting agitated. You have to stop asking questions,” Gabe says, pulling me gently toward him. “She just woke up, and we don’t want to overwhelm her.”
He’s right, but also I’ve been waiting for this moment for . . . well, weeks. “I’m just trying to figure out how to help her.”
He sighs. “I know. Why don’t you let me take this one?”
“Okay,” I say reluctantly and kiss his jaw. “You have better bedside manners with patients.”
Gabe steps closer to Izzy. “Isadora, we’re officially the guardians of the children. We’ll take care of them as if they’re ours. Ameline has power of attorney for you, too, which means she’ll be making any decisions that pertain to you until you’re ready to make your own.
“I hope you work hard to get better. If not for them, at least for yourself. We’re paying for all your medical bills, and I’ll pay for the best long-term facility where you’ll get all the help you need. Does that sound like a good deal to you?”
Izzy blinks once.
“Good, I’m glad we agree on something.” He turns to look at me. “It’s time to go home, Ame. We might be able to take advantage of my grandparents’ offer.”
I want to tell him that I’m not in the mood for that, but I do want to let Izzy rest. I kiss her forehead. “Why don’t I come tomorrow?”
She blinks twice.
“You don’t want me to visit you?”
Izzy blinks once.
“How about when you’re at the long-term facility?”
She blinks twice again.
“So, no visits?”
She blinks once.
It hurts that she doesn’t want to see me. “Okay, but when you’re ready to see me, I’ll be there, okay?”
We gather our belongings and head out.
“That was weird, right?” I ask as we make our way out of the room.
“It probably hurts, and you feel like she’s rejecting you. I don’t think that’s the case. We can’t know how she’s feeling right now. Her entire life has changed radically,” Gabe states. “Even if this isn’t permanent, it’ll take years for her to recover most of her faculties.”
“I wish I knew how she got here.”
He shrugs helplessly. “For now, we should get her personal items from the apartment and put the furniture in storage. No use paying rent when she’s here. We’ll figure out longer-term living arrangements once she’s discharged.”
