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Chapter 2 - The First Two Times

Colette did not explain everything in front of Elodie.

Good.

She called another nurse.

Then the charge nurse.

Bernice was asked to leave the room.

She refused.

“I am her grandmother.”

The charge nurse answered:

“And Mr. Maddox is her parent. He is requesting that you leave.”

Bernice looked at me.

I said:

“Go.”

“Griffin.”

“Now.”

She stared.

Then walked out.

Not escorted.

Not arrested.

Just finally removed from the room she had decided she controlled.

Colette checked Elodie first.

Blood pressure.

Oxygen saturation.

Knee.

No major injury from fall.

Elodie kept Button tucked beneath her chin.

“Did Grandma hurt your shoulders?”

“No.”

“Head?”

“No.”

“Did you hit anything besides your knee?”

“No.”

Colette nodded.

Then crouched to Elodie’s eye level.

“You did the right thing telling your dad.”

Elodie looked at me.

“Am I trouble?”

My chest tightened.

“No.”

She whispered:

“Grandma says you get scared when I act sick.”

I sat beside her.

“You are not responsible for my feelings.”

She looked uncertain.

Seven.

Too young to believe that after one sentence.

Colette said:

“I’m going to ask another nurse to sit with Elodie for a few minutes. Mr. Maddox, can we talk outside?”

I did not want to leave.

Elodie gripped me.

“No.”

“Then we talk here quietly?”

Colette considered.

“Yes.”

She pulled the curtain slightly.

The other nurse sat near Elodie.

Colette lowered her voice.

“The first incident was three days ago.”

I stared.

“Why wasn’t I told?”

“You were.”

“What?”

“We documented it and attempted to speak with you.”

“When?”

“You were on a conference call when I came by. Your mother told me she would tell you.”

I looked toward the hallway.

Of course.

“What happened?”

“Elodie had an activity restriction. Bathroom with assistance. Otherwise bed or chair unless physical therapy cleared more.”

I knew.

Her cardiology team had ordered it.

Colette continued:

“I entered and found Mrs. Maddox standing Elodie beside the bed.”

“What did Mom say?”

“That Elodie needed the bathroom.”

“Did she?”

“Elodie said no.”

I looked at my daughter.

She stared at Button.

Second incident:

The next morning.

I had gone downstairs to get coffee.

Colette came in because Elodie’s monitor alarmed.

She found Bernice walking her from the bed toward the window.

No walker.

No staff.

No oxygen extension properly positioned.

Elodie was crying.

“What did Mom say?”

“That physical therapy told her to practice walking.”

“Had they?”

“No.”

Colette had told Bernice directly:

Do not get Elodie out of bed without staff.

She had documented the interaction.

Then notified charge nurse.

Why was Bernice allowed back?

Because I had authorized her as a visitor.

Because she was calm.

Because the prior events had been framed as misunderstandings.

Because no one had seen her yank Elodie down until today.

Three separate pieces.

Only now did pattern become undeniable.

I asked:

“Did she ever remove oxygen?”

“No.”

“Tamper with medication?”

“Not that I have seen.”

Important.

“Did she force her to walk farther?”

“I don’t know what happened when staff weren’t present.”

That sentence made me cold.

Then Colette said:

“There is something else.”

“What?”

“Your mother has been recording her.”

I looked up.

“What?”

“Short videos. On her phone.”

My stomach dropped.

“Of what?”

“Elodie standing.”

There.

Not only disbelief.

Documentation.

May you like

My mother had been trying to prove something.

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