Page 59 of I Know She Was There

“Continue, Caroline,” said Dr. Ellison, his voice demanding, direct.

My heart beat so fast I couldn’t breathe properly. “There was something floating right in front of us.” I tried to get more air into my lungs. “A thermos from our picnic. Heavy, metal, on the open lid of our floating plastic lunch cooler. We’d dumped the cooler into the water when we fell in. I saw our sandwiches stranded inside their plastic bags. They reminded me of those tiny little ships inside bottles as they bobbed on the water. My mother reached out and grabbed the thermos handle, and she...” I saw the glint of sun on the rounded edge as she held it up, then leaned over us and smashed it down on my father’s temple. My body was jolted by the memory.

I looked at the doctor. He gazed back, his silence an invitation to continue.

“Mother smashed Daddy’s head with the thermos,” I whispered. “His hold on me loosened and he started sinking. I reached for him but my hands only cupped water. I used both hands, trying to grab hold of something—his fingers or a shirttail even...” A tremor shook me from my shoulders down to my feet.

“What happened next, Caroline?”

“I kept reaching, reaching for him, but I couldn’t even see him anymore.”

My body was shaking as if still in the frigid water. I pictured my arms extended, but they were no longer those of a child. My adult hands plunged into the bathwater, scooping up the baby’s lifeless form, Tim screaming from beside me to move out of the way. I blinked, shook my head, and looked at the doctor, wondering how I could make him understand. “I couldn’t do that twice, don’t you see? I’d let my dad go. I couldn’t let Emmy sink to the bottom of the tub. I reached her. I pulled her out! But Tim yanked her away from me.”

How could you?Tim’s face, horror-struck.

“He took Emmy and ran out of the room, out of the house. If he’d only let me fix it, fix her. I was saving her! I wouldn’t let her drift away from me like that, I wouldn’t...”

My body shook so hard that my voice faltered.

“It’s okay, Caroline. You tried to save both your dad and Emmy. You tried your hardest.”

I felt the sob building from deep inside of me, like a tsunami, overwhelming everything in its path. “But I failed, I failed! How can I even... how can I... how will I go on, knowing that I can never make it right?”

CHAPTER30

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 16

“My mother killed my dad and was willing to risk my health to keep her secret,” I said to Dr. Ellison as he signed my discharge papers.

He placed the pen next to the paper on the portable table beside my bed. “Perhaps. Only your mother knew what she was thinking, but if she was only taking half the dosage of her meds, she was still experiencing some of her bipolar symptoms. That, of course, would have impaired her judgment.”

I recalled her sporadic, intense concentration on me—her voice shooting questions with the precision and timing of a staccato firearm—alternating with longer periods of reserve, where only my bleeding and broken body parts could break through the polite veneer she presented to me and the wider world.

“The meds I’d been on...” I began, almost too frightened to continue. I swallowed hard. “Could they have lingering effects that could have caused me to... I mean, Emmy...”

“Emmy’s drowning was an accident, Caroline,” said Dr. Ellison. “Plain and simple.”

But there was nothing plain or simple about the incident. Whether I’d meant to or not, I’d killed my baby.

The urgency to get home fled with the image of Emmy’s last day in the house. What did it matter if someone broke in? What would they take of more value than what I’d already lost? My own life? They could have it.

“Tim hasn’t shown up, has he?” I’d hoped he’d give me a lift home.

Dr. Ellison rubbed his chin. “I’m afraid not.”

Of course he hadn’t. Tim obviously never wanted to speak to me again. He wasn’t going to forgive me for Emmy’s death. How could I even expect him to? His behavior suddenly made sense. All the times I’d thought he was being unfeeling, cold. He’d only been protecting himself from the reminders of Emmy’s death. I was the callous one. I didn’t deserve his forgiveness. I’d taken his love for our family and tossed it aside. He was right to call me a monster.

“We’ve called an Uber to bring you home,” said the doctor.

Before I could say anything, the nurse entered the room, her rubber-soled shoes squeaking her arrival. I watched her approach with her little cup. “Doctor, you are wanted at the nurses’ station,” she told him, reaching for my hand.

“Thanks,” said Dr. Ellison to his nurse. “I’m also late for a meeting.” He reached for my hand, clasped it firmly. “Best of luck, Caroline. Please keep in touch.”

I nodded, feeling strangely emotional about leaving the hospital. The doctor and his staff had given me the kind of care and compassion I’d spent a good portion of my life looking for. I didn’t know how well I’d do on my own.

The nurse consulted the clipboard in her hand. “The new drug is doing a fair job of stabilizing your mood, but it’s pretty effective at helping you sleep.” She lowered the clipboard and looked at me. “If you have any problems, like dizziness or heart palpitations, you’re to call Dr. Ellison immediately.”

“Okay.” I wouldn’t.

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