Chapter 10

"Does she have any family?" One of the head nurses inquired uneasily as she approached both Monica and Andrew in the waiting room of the ER. Andrew opened his mouth to say something but Monica was faster and completely ignored him. "I'm her mother." She replied in a quivering voice as a new threat of tears stung at the corners of her already wet eyes. The solemn flicker of sorrow in the nurse's eyes did nothing to reassure Monica as she felt her heart beat begin to race once again, silently praying over and over again with all her heart that she was about to be delivered good news. As they awaited an answer, Andrew stepped forward every so slightly and, ignoring his conscience that was screaming its protest, he placed one, gentle hand on her shoulder in some miniscule attempt to comfort her as much as he could without upsetting her, but Monica only took another step forward toward the nurse, just out of his reach, allowing his hand to slip gracefully from her. He didn't try again. It was clear enough that she needed her space, no matter how much it pained Andrew to leave her with that anger toward him.

The nurse studied the floor apprehensively and looked as though she was prepared to tell the angel anything else but this. "Well…um…she survived the surgery, but it's not looking good." She informed them in a voice so quiet they nearly didn't hear her as she fluttered through some of the papers on her clipboard, glancing anywhere else in the room except for Monica's eyes, which stared, unwavering, straight at the nurse, silently demanding more information as she struggled to slow her breathing. And so the nurse forced herself to continue. "She's out of surgery and she's in the second room on the left just down that hall, but I have to tell you, she's…well she's not doing very well. She's in a heavy coma and we're not exactly sure if she's going to pull through. If you wish to see her I'd suggest you do it now. I'm so sorry." Monica heard every word and yet it somehow didn't seem to comprehend. Every negative sensation that ever existed suddenly seemed to find its way into her heart. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't!

She covered her mouth with both hands simply to keep from screaming. No! There was no question about it. Her daughter had to be all right! If she wasn't…Monica couldn't bear the thought of it. Her daughter! Her little girl! All too suddenly, she recalled that tiny baby girl she had held in her arms for the first time thirteen years ago. She didn't give birth to her simply to let her die just before she became an official caseworker. Eliza had wanted to finish that first assignment so badly…and she never had the chance. She would never be the caseworker she so desperately wanted to be.

Suddenly coming to the realization of all this, the sobs only wracked her tiny frame that much more rapidly. This wasn't happening! It couldn't be! This wasn't supposed to happen. How could it be happening now? Monica felt as though it was all nothing but a terrible nightmare and she was simply unable to wake, as much as she desperately wanted to. She just wanted to wake up and find her daughter down in the kitchen of their assignment house, smiling and laughing with a hot mug of coffee in hand. She was so beautiful.

Andrew watched sorrowfully from a few steps back as his dearest friend struggled to pull herself together and calm her own throbbing heart. How he longed to simply hold her in his arms. To comfort her and tell her he loved her and that everything would be all right. But he didn't. He remained exactly where he stood, compassionate tears still rolling over his cheeks as he watched his beloved friend suffer. He wanted nothing more in the world than to wrap her in his arms and take the pain away once more. But he couldn't. He stood silently behind her and only waited solemnly for her to make the decision about what to do next. He dared not say a word. He loved her too much to want to hurt her any more than she already did.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of horrible, dreading silence, Monica eventually turned to face Andrew, forcing herself to look into his eyes for the first time since…their last contact. For one, brief, terrifying moment he thought she wasn't going to say anything, but when the moment had finally past, it seemed she had to force the words from her lips, as though even speaking to Andrew was physically paining her. "I'm going to see her. You can come with me if you like. Or stay here. I don't care." The words stung him like the snap of a whip around his tender heart as she then turned abruptly and disappeared down the bustling halls at a hastened pace without even a single glance back in his direction.

All too suddenly, Andrew was left alone in the busy ER, left to listen to nothing but the seemingly constant ring of the station phones and the hustle of doctors and nurses. Dropping himself down in one of those lonely plastic, waiting chairs, he seemed to stare into space as he relived every terribly painful image of that moment of Monica's rebellion toward him. He had refused to defend himself. He had refused to justify his actions, because he loved her to no end and he was no longer sure if he had even done the right thing in holding her back. They had broken the rules before, why couldn't he have done it just once more…for her?

Monica hesitated only momentarily as she grasped the cold, gray metal of the doorknob of her daughter's room in her hand. Drawing in one, deep, cleansing breath, she forced the turn in her wrist and heard the dreadfully loud click of the door as it inched open. Swinging it the rest of the way open, Monica's eyes instantly fell – as if drawn – on her unconscious, battered baby girl in the hospital bed, hooked up to numerous machines, looking as lifeless as she ever had. Catching her breath in her throat, Monica willed herself not to cry anymore. She couldn't. It was now that she needed to stand strong for her little girl. But the sight was by far the most painful thing she had ever seen in her many years as an angel of God. She almost turned and bolted away out the door then and there. But she didn't. She couldn't. She loved her too much.

She had to force every step of the way until she was finally standing at Eliza's bedside. Seeing many of her assignments in this exact situation before, she knew full well that her daughter could more than likely hear her even in her concealing coma. Unfortunately, she also knew very well that patients in this type of heavy coma often didn't come out, but she forced herself to think otherwise as she seated herself tentatively next to her daughter on the side of the hospital bed.

For a moment she only stared down at her with such loved mixed with the tears in her eyes that she was almost relieved she could barely see her anymore through the blur of the tears. "I'm so sorry." Her voice shook as she fought the urge to sob uncontrollably once more. She somehow managed to keep her composure as she reached forward and softly brushed one, gorgeous strand of her daughter's red-gold hair from her lifeless face. "I love you so much. I should've been there. If I had only come when you asked. I'm so sorry." She repeated, her voice suddenly beginning to crack with the weight of the emotion on her shoulders, her throat tightening almost painfully with the threat of sobs.

For another moment, Monica closed her eyes for a long second, allowing the tears to choke her at long last, listening quietly to the beeps of her daughter's heart monitor, just awaiting the horrible moment when those beeps would cease and be replaced by one, long, flat tone. But for now they continued to beep evenly, calmly, as though Eliza was trying in her own odd way to reassure her mother. But it did little for the experienced angel as she raised her eyes to the heavens and cried up to her one true Father. The one who loved her most.

"Oh Father," she whispered tearfully, knowing that He could hear her just fine even if she weren't speaking at all, "I love her so much. Please, help her. Help me. Help us all. We need you now and I'm so…so lost Father." But she didn't have a chance to say anymore, for a sudden knock at the door made her jump and she immediately turned to see who it was. A man entered, and uneasy, sympathetic expression upon his face. He looked horrible. Even though Monica had never seen him before, she knew instantly who he was. He was Eliza's teacher. He was the one who did this to her daughter…