Chapter 7 - The Doctor's Question
Lily began refusing her party dress.
At first, Graham thought it was ordinary toddler stubbornness.
The taupe-gray dress had been washed and returned to her closet.
But whenever Sofia—the temporary caregiver hired while Clara remained suspended—tried to dress her in it, Lily cried.
She pushed the fabric away.
“No.”
Sofia didn't force her.
She offered a soft yellow shirt instead.
Lily accepted it immediately.
Graham watched from the doorway.
The difference disturbed him.
Before the pool incident, Lily had loved that dress.
She called it her “pretty one.”
Now she couldn't bear to see it.
The pediatrician, Dr. Hannah Mercer, recommended a follow-up appointment and an evaluation of Lily's emotional responses.
Graham brought her himself.
Vivienne offered to accompany them.
He declined.
The decision caused an argument.
“You're keeping me away from my own child?”
“No. I'm taking her to an appointment.”
“Without her mother.”
“Yes.”
Vivienne stared at him.
“Since when do you make decisions like this without discussing them with me?”
Graham looked at her.
“Since I realized I don't need your permission to ask whether Lily is okay.”
Vivienne turned away.
At the appointment, Dr. Mercer spent time speaking gently to Lily before examining her.
She asked about sleep.
Appetite.
Behavior changes.
Fear around water.
And whether Lily appeared distressed around particular people or places.
Graham answered as accurately as he could.
“She's been waking at night.”
“How often?”
“Most nights.”
“Any specific triggers?”
“She cries when she sees the party dress.”
Dr. Mercer nodded.
“That's useful to know.”
She also examined faint marks that had appeared on Lily's upper arm.
The bruising was no longer pronounced, but Graham had photographed the marks shortly after the incident.
Dr. Mercer reviewed the images.
“Do you know how these occurred?”
“No.”
“Were they documented during the emergency evaluation?”
“They weren't mentioned in the discharge summary.”
The doctor examined the available records.
“Bruises can have different causes, especially during a fall or rescue. Their location and appearance deserve careful assessment, but they don't independently establish who caused them.”
Graham nodded.
He was learning to tolerate uncertainty.
He hated it.
But he understood why it mattered.
After the examination, Dr. Mercer sat with Lily and offered her a small stuffed duck.
Lily accepted it.
“What do ducks do?” the doctor asked.
“Quack.”
“That's right.”
Lily smiled faintly.
Then Dr. Mercer asked about the pool in a gentle, open-ended way, avoiding leading questions.
Lily became quiet.
Her fingers tightened around the duck.
“Mama,” she whispered.
Graham felt his chest tighten.
Dr. Mercer remained calm.
“Tell me about Mama.”
Lily looked down.
“No.”
The doctor gave her time.
Then Lily made a small pushing movement with one hand.
“Fall.”
Graham felt his breathing change.
He wanted to ask whether Vivienne pushed her.
Wanted to demand an answer.
Instead, he stayed silent.
Dr. Mercer continued the visit without pressing Lily to repeat the event.
Afterward, she explained that a two-year-old's words could be meaningful but needed careful interpretation.
“Her language is still developing,” she said. “We shouldn't repeatedly question her or teach her a version of the event.”
Graham nodded.
“What should I do?”
“Maintain a calm, predictable routine. Make sure she feels safe. Follow the guidance of the professionals involved in assessing the incident, and let them handle any specialized interviewing.”
Graham stared at his hands.
“I didn't protect her.”
Dr. Mercer looked at him.
“You weren't present when she went into the water.”
He shook his head.
“That's not all I mean.”
The doctor waited.
Graham swallowed.
“I struck the woman who pulled her out.”
Dr. Mercer remained quiet.
Then she said, “That's something you'll need to take responsibility for. Your daughter also needs to see the adults around her behave safely.”
Graham nodded.
The honesty hurt.
He appreciated it anyway.
That evening, he returned home with Lily asleep in the car seat.
Vivienne waited in the foyer.
“How was she?”
“Physically, she's doing well.”
Vivienne exhaled.
“Thank God.”
Graham continued.
“She's frightened.”
“Of course she is.”
“And she seems particularly distressed when she sees things connected to the party.”
Vivienne folded her arms.
“Graham, children get frightened after accidents. That doesn't mean anyone hurt her intentionally.”
He looked at her.
“I didn't say that.”
She hesitated.
Then smiled.
“I'm only saying we shouldn't make things worse by overreacting.”
Graham studied his wife.
For the first time, he noticed how often she answered questions he hadn't asked.
And how rarely she asked about what Lily had actually experienced.
Upstairs, the little girl woke as Graham carried her toward bed.
She opened her eyes.
“Daddy.”
“Yeah, bug?”
“Cawa?”
Graham stopped.
The name came again.
Soft.
Hopeful.
“Cawa?”
He kissed her forehead.
“I know, sweetheart.”
Lily rested her head against his shoulder.
May you like
And Graham understood that he couldn't keep pretending Clara's absence was protecting his daughter.
Because Lily kept asking for the one person who had reached into the water when everyone else stood still.
