Chapter 5 - The Turning Point
When Derek returned to St. Jude’s PICU, the storm outside had begun to break, revealing the faint gold streaks of early dawn across the horizon.
Maria was sitting in the plastic chair beside Rose’s bed. She held a small moist cloth, gently dabbing the forehead of the sleeping infant. When she saw Derek enter, she stood up quickly, wiping tears from her swollen eyes.
“Mr. Grayson,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “The doctors told me what happened. Mr. Julian... I cannot believe a human being could be so evil.”
Derek walked over to Maria and pulled her into a tight, fierce embrace. “I am so sorry, Maria. I am so sorry I ever doubted you. You saved her life today. If you hadn't forced me downstairs, if you hadn't recognized that mark...”
Maria wept quietly against his shoulder. “I grew up in the rural bush of Queensland, Australia, Mr. Grayson. My younger brother was bitten by a tick when we were children. He suffered the same paralysis. The moment I saw Rose’s legs going limp, a memory from thirty years ago screamed in my head. I prayed to God I was wrong.”
“You weren't wrong,” Derek said, stepping back and holding her hands. “You were her guardian angel.”
They both turned to look at Rose. The infant was still attached to the ventilator, her tiny chest rising and falling to the mechanical rhythm of the machine. However, Dr. Vance stepped into the room with a cautiously optimistic smile on her face.
“I have some good news,” Dr. Vance said, reviewing the bedside monitor. “The blood tests show that the concentration of the neurotoxin in her bloodstream is dropping rapidly now that the parasite has been removed. Her body’s natural metabolic processes are clearing the poison.”
“When can she breathe on her own?” Derek asked, his heart aching at the sight of the thick tube in her throat.
“We are going to attempt an extubation trial in a few hours,” Dr. Vance explained. “Her reflex responses are already improving. Watch this.”
Dr. Vance took a small neurological hammer and gently tapped the tendon below Rose’s tiny knee. For weeks, Rose’s legs had hung completely lifeless. But this time, her tiny right foot gave a small, distinct kick.
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Derek gasped, a sudden sob catching in his chest. Tears flooded his eyes as he dropped to his knees beside the crib. He took Rose’s tiny hand in his, and for the first time in nearly a month, her small fingers curled weakly around his index finger.
“She’s coming back,” Derek whispered, pressing his forehead against the side of the plastic crib. “My baby is coming back.”
