The Perfect Child(76)

I had recognized the nurse at the nurse’s station from one of my previous cases. She’d been busy typing into her computer when I had approached her.

I had cleared my throat. “Excuse me.”

She’d looked up. She had a long, narrow face and dark hair tucked behind her ears.

I had flashed her my badge. “I’m here to see Cole Bauer.”

She’d pointed to the narrow hallway on her right. “He’s in room 10E.”

“Thanks,” I’d said, but she’d already gone back to what she had been doing before I had interrupted her.

It didn’t matter how many times I’d been in the NICU; each visit felt like walking onto another planet. Time crawled underneath constant movement and manic activity. I had steeled myself for what I’d find. All I had known from the file was that there’d been a terrible accident at their home. Nothing more. I had knocked before pushing through the door.

The telltale Isolette with its hard plastic walls and holes on the side had stood in the center of the room. Thin, flexible tubes had wound in and out of the small bed, attaching themselves to various monitors. The ventilator had moved up and down, breathing for him. Not a good sign. I hadn’t wanted to look at him. For now, I hadn’t had to because there had been nurses scuttling around him, and I would’ve been in the way, so I had gratefully stepped aside to let them do their work.

Hannah had sat in a vinyl recliner next to the bed, clutching a blanket to her chest. Christopher had stood rigid next to the chair, his arm on her shoulder. He had looked up when he had seen me, his face white. Tunnels of emotion in his eyes. I’d just nodded. There weren’t any words. I had knelt in front of Hannah and placed my hands on her knees. She hadn’t blinked. My presence hadn’t registered.

“Hannah?” I had prompted.

Still nothing.

“They had to sedate her with something because she wouldn’t stop screaming. She’s in shock,” Christopher had explained. “She’s been sitting like that for the last hour. Barely talks. Won’t move.”

I had tilted my head in the direction of the bed, still too afraid to look. “How is he?”

His manner had been clenched and rigid as he had desperately tried to keep it together. “Alive. That’s about all they know for now.”

“What happened?”

His Adam’s apple had moved up and down with the emotions caught in his throat. “I’m not sure. I ju—just . . . I can’t—”

I had put my hand on his back. “Don’t worry about it. We can talk later.”

We had stood together, watching the nurses work and listening to Cole’s machines beep. The room had felt even smaller with all of us in it.

“Where’s Janie?” I had asked.

Christopher had frantically shaken his head, then looked at Hannah and mouthed the word no. I had looked at him in confusion, but he’d just done it again. I had stood quietly next to them until the hospital case worker had knocked on the door and asked to meet with me outside. I had stepped into the hallway, shutting the door tightly behind me.

She’d looked fresh out of college, like she might’ve just taken her licensing exam last week. She had a rounded, heart-shaped face under pulled-back dark hair. Her lips had been thin and compressed by thought. She’d looked quiet—not mousy quiet, just pensive. She had moved the iPad she carried underneath her left arm and stuck out her right. “I’m Holly.”

I had shaken her hand. “Piper. Nice to meet you.”

She had taken a few steps away from the door just in case Hannah and Christopher might overhear, and I had followed. We had stood in front of one of the food carts waiting for someone to take the empty trays down to the kitchen. The smell of old food had wafted up my nose.

“I’m the social worker assigned to Cole and Janie’s case,” she had said, even though it went without saying.

“Where is Janie?” I had asked.

“She’s on the fourth floor with her aunt.”

I had nodded and waited for her to continue.

“I don’t want to waste time giving you details that you already know, so why don’t you let me know what you know, and I can fill in any of the gaps.” Her green eyes had been piercing and intense.

I had smiled, trying to ease some of the tension. “Honestly, I didn’t even know they had a baby, so I’m a bit out of the loop. I was really involved in their lives for a long time but haven’t been since the adoption was final. I thought things were going well.”

“Hmmm . . .” She had looked down at her iPad. “It looks like things have been bad for a while. They’ve been in the emergency room twice before this?”

“Yes, but both those incidents were accidents.”

Her face had filled with doubt. I would’ve thought the same thing if I’d only read the files, but I knew the Bauers.

“Have you spoken with them recently?” she’d asked.

I’d shaken my head. “Can you fill me in on what’s happening?”

“That’s really what we’re trying to figure out. The paramedics were called to the house around eleven this morning. The father was performing CPR on the infant when they arrived. There was a faint heartbeat, but the baby was unresponsive. He was intubated and brought here. We are still waiting for the results of his CT scan.”