My wife was four hours late, her phone was off, and the hospital said she’d left on time. I tracked her to a warehouse and drove there expecting the worst. Maeve was alive and perfectly safe—but what she’d secretly built inside was only the beginning of what she’d hidden from me.
My wife, Maeve, is the kind of person who texts me if she’s going to be ten minutes late.
She’s a pediatric nurse, so her schedule has never been easy.
Shifts run over. Parents need one more question answered. A kid gets scared right before discharge.
And lately, the job had been getting to her.
Her schedule has never been easy.
Maeve always cared about her patients, but every once in a while, one got under her skin.
There was a six-year-old named Ava she’d mentioned more than once.
Maeve never told me medical details, only that Ava’s family was having a hard time and that sometimes sending a kid home didn’t mean the hard part was over.
