Page 27 of Insidious

There are times when she seems … here. And then others where she drifts, like she is present, but not quite connected, her attention slipping away even mid-conversation, her responses taking a little too long, like she has to pull herself back to the moment.

***

At night, it is worse.

She sits up suddenly, checking Amelie again and again, even when she is asleep, even when nothing is wrong.

“Is she breathing?” she whispers.

“She’s fine,” I say, guiding her back down.

But she lies awake, and I stay up with her.

We learn everything together. Or try to.

The mechanics of it—feeding, changing, settling—we manage.

But coping with the new normal?

That feels like swimming in unfamiliar waters. I took my wife to the hospital, and I have returned with a different person. It feels like we are both standing in the same room, but experiencing entirely different realities.

She forgets where she puts things. Starts doing something and then stops halfway, like she’s lost track of what she is doing.

Sometimes, she’ll just sit here, staring at Amelie, her expression far away.

Other times, she’ll cry suddenly, turning away like she doesn’t want me to see.

I don’t know what to call it.

I don’t know if this is normal.

If this is just … adjustment? Hormones? Exhaustion?

I try to convince myself it will pass.

Things will get better, and I will have my Luna back.

So here I am, looking through the latest project plans without registering a thing. I must have drifted off at my desk.

I jump when my phone shrills next to my ear. Groggily, I look at the time … 8.00 p.m. … FUCK …

Lily is calling me. Why is Lily calling me at this time?

Chapter 6

Isaac

The first time Lily calls, the phone cuts off by the time I groggily pick up.

It buzzes against the metal workbench, rattling slightly from the vibration, and I glance at the screen, too dazed from sleep to see it. I have returned from paternity leave to a mountain of work that is slowly burying me. My request for more time off was rejected on the grounds that there are two new projects to complete. I have been searching for a nanny we can afford to keep an eye on Luna, more than Amelie, but no luck so far. Having Mum there is not helping.

I am about to call back when the phone buzzes again.

Probably another question about nappies, or whether Amelie’s rash looks worse, or if Luna has eaten anything. Urgent voice notes over things that turn out to be … nothing. Or things I don’t understand how to fix. Luna not speaking. Luna not eating. Luna staring through people like they aren’t here.

The same things.

The same constant worry that’s been hanging over the house like creeping mould.