Abandoned

36

The late morning sunlight spilled gently through the hospital window, casting warm stripes across the rug where Sienna sat cross-legged. Her communication binder lay open in front of her, its bright cards neatly arranged. Zareya sat cross-legged too, close enough to guide but not so close as to crowd.

"Alright, baby," Zareya said softly, her voice light and encouraging. "Let's practice. What do you want right now?"

Sienna fiddled with the edge of her elephant plush, her eyes flicking between the binder and her mama. She hesitated, then pressed a finger against the card for cuddles.

Zareya smiled warmly. "Cuddles? Always." She leaned forward and wrapped her little girl in a gentle hug, rocking her slightly. "Good asking, baby."

Sienna's lips curled into the smallest of smiles as she melted into her mama's arms. When Zareya pulled back, she tapped the binder again, her brows furrowed in concentration. This time her finger landed on toy.

"Toy," Zareya repeated, nodding. "Okay, which one?" She reached into the basket beside them, holding up Sienna's stacking cups in one hand and a soft rattle in the other.

Sienna leaned forward, patting the cups with a determined little huff.

"There we go," Zareya praised, handing them over. "That's how you tell Mama what you need."

Sienna clutched the cups and stacked two carefully, though her attention kept flickering back to the binder like she wanted to keep trying. After a few more turns, Zareya clapped her hands softly. "You're getting so good at this. Let's use it for something special now, lunch."

At the word, Sienna's head tilted, curiosity sparking in her tired eyes. Zareya slid the binder closer, flipping to the page with food options. There were pictures for milk, fruit, bread, and vegetables.

"Show me, baby. What do you want first?"

Sienna squinted at the page, then pressed her finger decisively against milk.

Zareya chuckled gently. "Of course. Milk first." She poured some into her sippy cup and passed it over. Sienna took it eagerly, nursing it as though it were the best choice she could've made.

When she set it down, Zareya tapped the binder again. "What next?"

Sienna scanned the options, then tapped fruit.

"Fruit it is," Zareya said, sliding a little bowl of soft, cut-up strawberries onto the tray. "Good picking, baby."

Sienna popped a piece into her mouth, chewing happily. She looked back at the binder and, just to be cheeky, tapped cuddles again with sticky fingers.

Zareya laughed, leaning in for another squeeze. "Cuddles and strawberries? You clever girl, you know just how to ask for everything you want."

And as Sienna giggled into her mama's arms, binder balanced between them, the moment felt soft and simple: a tiny victory, a bridge of words forming between them, one choice at a time.

By the time dinner rolled around, the room was cozy and calm. Zareya had set up Sienna's tray with a few different small foods for her to try. Sienna sat perched on her booster chair at the low hospital table, her elephant plush close by. The communication binder rested within easy reach, its pages open to the food section.

"Alright, baby," Zareya said gently, brushing a curl from Sienna's forehead. "What should we try first?"

Sienna tapped the card for bread with quick confidence, then looked expectantly at her mama.

"Bread it is," Zareya smiled, handing her a soft piece of buttered toast. Sienna took a bite, humming with satisfaction.

After a few more tries with familiar foods, Zareya held up a small plate. "Here's something new, baby. Just a little piece of scrambled egg." She hesitated, new foods always felt like small leaps into the unknown, but she wanted Sienna to have the chance. "We'll just try, hmm?"

Sienna studied the spoon for a moment, then leaned forward to take a cautious bite. She chewed, wrinkled her nose a little, then swallowed. At first, she seemed fine. She even tapped her binder clumsily at more, though her expression wasn't as sure as usual.

But within minutes, something shifted. Sienna rubbed at her mouth with the back of her hand, her cheeks beginning to flush. A faint rash appeared along her chin.

Zareya's eyes widened. "Baby?" She moved closer, noticing Sienna scratching now at her neck, her lips starting to swell ever so slightly. Panic laced her chest. "Oh no... oh sweetheart."

Sienna whimpered, confused and uncomfortable, and pushed the binder toward her as if to say help. Her breathing quickened, her little body restless with distress.

Zareya scooped her into her arms, calling out firmly, "Nurse! We need help in here!"

Within moments, two nurses rushed in. One quickly checked Sienna's airway, while the other prepared medication. Zareya clutched Sienna close, whispering reassurance into her curls even as her own heart hammered.

"It looks like an allergic reaction," the nurse confirmed briskly. "Eggs, was that new today?"

"Yes," Zareya managed, her voice trembling as she rocked Sienna against her chest. "Just a tiny piece, but she's reacting."

The nurse nodded. "We'll treat it right away."

As the medication was administered and the worst of the reaction began to ease, Sienna clung desperately to Zareya's shirt, her little voice breaking into a shaky, garbled babble: "Mama... mama..."

Zareya kissed her damp forehead, tears prickling at her eyes. "I've got you, baby. You're safe. Mama's right here."

Slowly, Sienna's breathing steadied, though her body stayed curled against her mama like a frightened kitten.

Dr. Harrison entered soon after, his tone calm but serious. "She'll be alright. But we'll document this carefully. It looks like we've just discovered Sienna has an egg allergy. From now on, no eggs and we'll make sure everyone on her team knows."

Zareya nodded, still holding Sienna close, relief washing over her like a tide. She looked down at her daughter, who was now clinging to both her elephant plush and her mama with equal need.

"No more eggs, baby," she whispered, rocking her gently. "Never again. Mama's going to keep you safe."

Sienna whimpered softly but pressed her cheek deeper into Zareya's chest, her tiny arms wound tight around her neck.

And in that fragile moment, fear giving way to safety, it was clear: words and binders aside, Sienna had already spoken the most important message of all. She trusted her mama completely.