Chapter 3
At the hospital, Mai cried when the nurse tried to take her clothes.
Not because she was hurt.
Because she thought she had done something wrong.
“I’ll give them back,” the nurse said gently.
Mai shook her head hard.
“Grandma says I can’t waste clothes.”
Linh burst into tears.
I sat beside the exam table, feeling like my skin had become too tight for my body.
The doctor’s name was Patel.
He moved slowly.
Carefully.
He asked permission before touching Mai.
Every time.
“May I listen to your heart?”
Mai looked at me.
I nodded.
She nodded too.
The stethoscope touched her chest.
She flinched anyway.
Dr. Patel’s face stayed calm, but his eyes changed.
I saw it.
Professional anger.
The controlled kind.
After the exam, he asked Linh to go with a nurse for juice.
Linh refused until Mai whispered, “It’s okay.”
My brave girl.
My frightened girl.
Both mine.
When Linh left, Dr. Patel looked at me.
“She is malnourished. Underweight. Vitamin deficient. There are signs of prolonged neglect.”
I closed my eyes.
The words were knives.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“With care, nutrition, therapy, and time, she can improve.”
Improve.
Not heal.
Not yet.
He continued.
“There are also developmental delays. Not because she is incapable. Because she has been deprived of normal interaction.”
I pressed my hands together.
“I didn’t know.”
Dr. Patel’s face softened.
“I believe you. But child services will investigate everyone.”
“I know.”
The door opened.
Ms. Harris stepped inside.
She held a tablet and wore the same serious expression.
“We need to discuss placement.”
My heart stopped.
“No.”
“Mr. Tran—”
“You are not taking them.”
“I am not here to punish you. But Mai has just been removed from extreme neglect. Linh may also be a victim. We have to ensure safety.”
I stood.
“I am their father.”
“And we need to confirm you can protect them from your mother.”
“My mother is not coming back.”
“Is this her house?”
The question hit hard.
I looked down.
Technically, yes.
After my wife died, I moved back into my mother’s house because I needed help with Linh.
Because I was grieving.
Because I was working double shifts.
Because I thought family meant safety.
“It’s hers,” I admitted.
“Then you need another place tonight.”
I had savings, but not enough for sudden life.
I had a truck.
A toolbox.
A dead wife.
Two daughters.
And a mother in police custody.
“I’ll find somewhere.”
Ms. Harris studied me.
Before she could answer, the hospital room door opened again.
A man in a dark suit stepped in.
I did not recognize him at first.
Then my breath caught.
Mr. Caldwell.
My late wife’s father.
I had not seen him in five years.
After An died, her parents blamed me for being away during the birth.
Maybe they were right.
He stood in the doorway, older than I remembered, eyes fixed on Mai.
Behind him stood Mrs. Caldwell, one hand pressed to her mouth.
Linh ran into the room.
“Grandpa?”
Mrs. Caldwell sobbed.
For years, they had sent birthday gifts.
For years, I had returned some calls and avoided others because grief made cowards of everyone.
Now they were looking at the granddaughter they had been told never existed.
Mr. Caldwell stepped toward me.
His voice shook.
“We came as soon as the police called.”
I swallowed.
“I’m sorry.”
He looked at Mai.
Then at Linh.
Then back to me.
“For what?”
“For not knowing.”
His eyes filled with pain.
“You should have known.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
He was silent for a long moment.
Then he said, “But now you do.”
Mrs. Caldwell came forward slowly.
“Can I see her?”
Mai gripped my shirt.
I looked at her.
“This is your grandma. Your mother’s mother.”
Mai whispered, “I had another grandma?”
Mrs. Caldwell broke.
She knelt beside the bed.
“Yes, baby.”
Mai stared at her.
“Are you nice?”
Mrs. Caldwell covered her mouth.
Then nodded.
“I will try to be.”
Ms. Harris cleared her throat.
“Do you have space for the children tonight?”
Mr. Caldwell turned.
“We do.”
My chest tightened.
May you like
He looked at me.
“All three of them.”
