Taylor came in quietly.
I heard her shoes in the hallway before I saw her face.
She looked tired, with her hair pulled back and her coat still buttoned.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she looked past me toward Lily's bed.
"How is she?"
"She's being monitored. She's awake, and she's resting."
Taylor moved closer.
I stepped aside so she could see our daughter.
Lily was sleeping again, one hand curled around the edge of the covering.
Taylor stopped beside the bed.
She reached toward Lily's hair, then pulled her hand back without touching it.
I couldn't tell whether she was afraid of waking her or afraid of what she might see if Lily opened her eyes.
"Did they say she'll be okay?"
"They're watching her condition."
Taylor nodded.
She stared at the bed for several seconds.
Then she turned toward me.
"What exactly did she tell you?"
I felt the familiar pressure in my chest.
Even now, Taylor wanted the details before she allowed herself to believe what had happened.
"She said Evelyn put her in the freezer when she was bad."
Taylor looked down.
"Mom wouldn't do something like that."
I had expected those words.
That didn't make hearing them any easier.
"I found Lily inside it."
"I know what you're saying."
"No, Taylor. I don't think you do."
My voice was low, but she heard the anger in it.
She folded her arms.
"Mom has helped us with Lily for years. She loves that child."
"I know how she acts when people are watching."
Taylor's expression hardened.
"Don't do this."
I looked at Lily.
I didn't want another fight beside her bed.
"I didn't bring this up. Lily did."
Taylor glanced toward our daughter.
For a second, I thought she might finally let herself consider what that meant.
Then she said, "Maybe Lily misunderstood what happened."
I felt something inside me go still.
A child had been found in a freezer, and Taylor was already looking for a way to make the story less terrible.
"How does a child misunderstand being shut inside a freezer?"
Taylor didn't answer.
She moved to the chair on the other side of the bed and sat down.
Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.
I could see her trying to hold herself together.
I wanted to believe she was simply overwhelmed.
I wanted to believe that if I gave her time, she would ask the questions I had been asking myself since the garage.
Instead, she looked at Lily and whispered, "She shouldn't have been in there."
It was the first thing Taylor had said that sounded like an admission rather than a defense.
I sat down across from her.
"No. She shouldn't."
Neither of us spoke for a while.
The room was quiet except for the soft sounds of the equipment and the occasional movement in the hallway.
Taylor kept looking at Lily.
I watched her face, searching for some sign that she understood the seriousness of what had happened.
Finally, she asked, "Did she say why Mom did it?"
"She said Evelyn told her she was bad and needed to learn to listen."
Taylor closed her eyes.
I waited.
She didn't offer an explanation.
She didn't tell me that Lily had invented it.
She simply sat there with her eyes shut, her fingers pressed together so tightly that her knuckles had turned pale.
I had seen Taylor angry many times.
I had seen her cry during our marriage.
I had watched her defend Evelyn even when the argument had nothing to do with her.
This was different.
For the first time that night, I wondered whether Taylor was frightened of something beyond the discovery itself.
I couldn't know what she was thinking.
I wasn't going to pretend I could read her mind.
But I knew that fear was written all over her face.
"Taylor, has anything like this happened before?"
She opened her eyes.
"What are you asking me?"
"I'm asking whether Evelyn has ever punished Lily this way."
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
I leaned forward.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure."
She stood up and walked to the window.
Outside, the parking lot lights reflected on the glass.
I stayed where I was.
I didn't want to corner her.
I wanted an honest answer.
Those were not the same thing, and I had confused them too often during our marriage.
Taylor rubbed her forehead.
"Mom can be strict."
I waited.
"She believes children need discipline. You know that."
"I know she believes a lot of things."
Taylor turned toward me.
"You never liked her."
"This isn't about whether I liked her."
"You always thought she interfered too much."
"She did interfere too much."
Taylor's mouth tightened.
I could see another argument forming.
Then I remembered Lily lying in the bed between us.
I lowered my voice.
"We can argue about our marriage another day. Right now, we need to understand what happened to our daughter."
Taylor looked toward Lily again.
She sat down.
For a while, she said nothing.
Then she asked, "What are we supposed to do now?"
I was surprised by the question.
It was the first time she had spoken as though we were still two parents responsible for the same child.
"We make sure Lily is safe."
"And Mom?"
I stared at her.
"Why is that your first concern?"
Taylor looked away.
I regretted the sharpness of my words almost immediately.
Not because the question was unfair, but because I could see her shutting down.
I had done that to her before.
She had done it to me.
We had spent years learning how to hurt each other in small, efficient ways.
I didn't want to carry that habit into this room.
"I need you to hear me," I said. "I'm not asking you to stop loving your mother. I'm asking you to listen to what Lily told us."
Taylor pressed her lips together.
"I am listening."
"Then don't explain it away before we understand it."
She looked at our daughter.
This time, she didn't answer.
A little later, Lily stirred.
Her eyes opened slowly.
She looked at me first.
Then she saw Taylor.
"Mom?"
Taylor was beside her in an instant.
"Oh, sweetheart."
She reached for Lily's hand.
Lily let her hold it, but she didn't move closer.
Taylor's face changed.
I saw the moment she noticed.
It was a small thing.
A child's hand remaining still in her mother's grasp.
But it seemed to hurt Taylor more than anything I had said.
"Are you hurting anywhere?" Taylor asked.
Lily shook her head.
"Are you cold?"
Another small shake.
Taylor brushed her thumb across Lily's fingers.
"Mommy's here."
Lily watched her.
Then her gaze moved toward me.
I didn't know what she wanted me to do, so I stayed still.
Taylor leaned down and kissed her forehead.
Lily accepted it quietly.
There was no sudden embrace.
No relieved smile.
No little arms reaching around Taylor's neck.
I watched my former wife take in that silence.
For once, she had no argument ready.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: The Questions We Had Avoided for Years Became Impossible to Ignore When Lily Finally Tried to Explain Her Fear
I Thought the Worst Thing I Would Find That Night Was Another Reminder of My Failed Marriage
Part 5 of 8
