What Lily Needs Now
Chapter 16 - What Lily Needs Now
Lily's recovery, both physical and emotional, continued steadily over the following months, her nightmares gradually replaced by ordinary childhood dreams, her nightly insistence on checking every meal before eating it slowly softening as trust, patient and carefully rebuilt, returned to her daily routines.
Dr. Naomi Faust, the pediatric trauma therapist Choi had recommended early in the investigation, worked with Lily weekly, helping her process a fear that no seven-year-old should have needed to develop in the first place, the specific, careful vigilance of a child who had learned, far too young, that the people meant to care for her weren't always safe.
"She's making excellent progress," Dr. Faust told Daniel, during one of their regular check-ins. "Children are remarkably resilient, particularly when surrounded by consistent, trustworthy adults during their recovery. I want to make sure you understand this doesn't mean the experience won't surface again, in different forms, as she grows older and gains more capacity to understand what actually happened to her."
"I understand," Daniel said. "I want to be prepared for that, whenever it comes."
Nora had begun, by this point, the formal process of returning to medicine, enrolling in a recertification program at the regional hospital, her confidence rebuilding gradually alongside Lily's own steady recovery, the two of them, in some sense, healing in parallel.
"I got assigned to pediatric urgent care for my supervised return," Nora told Daniel one evening, unable to keep the specific pride out of her voice. "Small steps, but it feels like the right place to start rebuilding."
"I'm proud of you," Daniel said. "I don't think I've said that plainly enough, given everything else we've both been navigating."
Lily, increasingly comfortable around Nora over the preceding months, had begun asking, with the specific directness only children manage, questions about the two adults' evolving relationship.
"Are you and Nora going to get married," she asked one evening, over dinner at Joan's kitchen table, the question arriving with no particular weight attached, simply curious in the straightforward way children approach adult complications.
Daniel and Nora exchanged a look, something warm and careful passing between them.
"We're taking things slowly, sweetheart," Daniel said. "But I think, someday, that might be a very real possibility."
"Good," Lily said, returning her attention to her dinner with the specific, uncomplicated satisfaction of a child who had simply wanted an honest answer. "She makes good pancakes."
May you like
Nora laughed, the sound genuine and unguarded in a way Daniel had come to treasure over the preceding months.
"High praise," she said. "I'll take it."
