When Elsie opened her eyes later that afternoon, weak and confused but clearly present, Micah burst into tears for the first time since Rowan had arrived at the house.
He climbed carefully onto the edge of the bed and whispered, “I missed you.”
Elsie reached for him with a tired little hand. “I was sleepy.”
Rowan smoothed both their hair back and said, “You’re both safe now.”
The Visit Across Town
The next day, after arranging for a trusted neighbor to sit with the children for two hours, Rowan drove to Nashville General to see Delaney.
She was sitting up in bed when he entered, her left arm in a cast, bruising along her cheekbone, hair tied back in a careless knot that made her look younger and more defeated than he remembered. For a long moment she did not meet his eyes.
Rowan stood at the foot of the bed.
“The kids are alive,” he said, and the sharpness in his own voice surprised him.
Delaney closed her eyes briefly. “I know.”
“What happened?”
Her answer came slowly, as if she had to drag each piece of it up through shame. She had gone out with a man she had been seeing, expecting to be gone only a few hours, she said. She had been overwhelmed, exhausted, desperate to feel like a person instead of a machine running on work and childcare and loneliness. Then there had been drinking, an argument in the car, a wreck, darkness, and after that nothing until she woke in the hospital.
When Rowan said, “You left a six-year-old and a three-year-old alone with almost no food,” there was nothing dramatic in his tone. That was what made it harsher.
Tears slid down Delaney’s face, but he did not step closer.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know what I did.”
“Micah thought his sister might not make it through the night.”
Delaney covered her mouth with her good hand and bent forward.
Rowan let a long silence sit between them before he spoke again. “I’m filing for full temporary custody.”
She looked up, broken and exhausted. “Are you taking them away from me forever?”
He shook his head once. “I’m protecting them. What happens after that depends on what you do next.”
To her credit, she did not argue. She did not accuse. She did not reach for easy excuses. She only asked, after another long silence, “How are they?”
“Elsie is recovering. Micah saved her by calling me.”
That sentence seemed to crush whatever was left of Delaney’s defenses. She cried quietly, without theatrics, and Rowan understood then that remorse was real even when it came too late to prevent harm.
Before he left, she said, “I’m starting therapy. I already asked.”
He rested one hand on the doorframe. “Good. Keep going.”
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