Leave The City (Book 8 of Adopted by the Josephs)

34. Tyler

Six weeks.

It's been six weeks since Sam's accident. Every day is a struggle. We get up, let each other get into the bathroom, get dressed, then go wake Junie and Rosie up, get them dressed and fed, reminding ourselves that we too, need to eat. Sam wouldn't want us starving ourselves.

Once we're all done breakfast, we pack up everything we need for the day and get into the car.

When we get to our destination, Rosie, who was starting to become more chatty again, would become quieter.

In her hand, she clutches a small vase with a rose in it and a balloon tied to it. This one says "Merry Christmas".

We go through the same routine every day.

"I know it's still a couple of weeks away, but, Merry Christmas, baby," I say, kissing Samantha's forehead. She's still in a coma, which is no longer medically induced. She'd had an infection early on, but she's stable now. The first two days, the ones we were told were so critical, the only thing they were looking out for was that she wasn't still bleeding internally. All seemed well, and while she was still listed as critical, she was more of a step-down. Critically serious? Seriously critical? In any case, she'd passed the first test. She'd lived through those first two critical days.

Her second test came just four days later. Her temperature began to rise. It hit 106° and she weathered febrile seizures. Samantha had had an infection somewhere. The antibiotics were increased, she had ultrasounds and was poked and prodded, and apparently, they were able to find the source of the infection: an abscess in a muscle in her back. They were also able to determine it did not get into or anywhere near her spinal cord or spinal column. They didn't have to tell us what that meant. If it had, it could cause meningitis, and in her state, it would likely be fatal. He tells us this as if it's good news. Although the abscess wasn't near the spine, it doesn't rule out the possibility of another abscess forming closer to the spine next time. And Sam was now forever immunocompromised. We had a lot of work to do, ensuring we knew exactly how to keep Sam healthy and safe but not stifle her.

But first, she had to wake up.

Rosie still lay beside her sister every day and told her stories. So, to me, that means Rosie still feels their connection. I never know how to ask her if she can feel Samantha, because when I ask, she says:

"Silly Daddy, Sammy's right here," and she taps Samantha's arm.

For some reason, Junie loves Sam's foot and sits there all day holding it.

And as she did every day, Junie crawled right down to Sam's foot and grasped her toe. I smiled, thinking it was cute. Then, suddenly, Junie chomped down on Samantha's toe! And as Jenna was trying to admonish Junie, I could have sworn I saw Sam's toe move.

"Junie!" Jenna said, taking her away from Sam.

"Do that again!" I said at the same time.

"Tyler! I am not letting Junie think it's okay to bite her sister's toe!"

"She moved it," I said.

"Who did? What? Who moved what?" Jenna asked.

"Sam. Sam moved her toe when Junie bit her!" I said.

"Wouldn't that just be a reflex?" Jenna asked.

"Sure, but to pain! It may be a reflex, but Sam would have to be aware of the pain!"

I ran out the door and to the nurse's station. Zoe, Sam's primary nurse was writing in a chart.

"Zoe, you have to come see!" I said excitedly.