Chapter 1 - The Cold Heart of the Hive

My 6-year-old daughter was on life support when my mother texted, "Don’t forget the cupcakes for your niece’s party tomorrow." I was standing in Daisy’s ICU room with a plastic visitor band cutting into my wrist, staring at my child under a ventilator while my family argued about frosting.
I typed back with shaking fingers: "Mom, I’m at the hospital. Daisy is fighting for her life." My father’s reply hit seconds later. "Your niece’s party matters more than your drama." Then Madison piled on: "Stop overreacting. Kids get hurt all the time."
The monitor beside Daisy kept beeping. Her blonde hair was matted against the pillow. One of her little socks was still on. There was dried glitter from her school shoes still stuck in my memory from the car, and my mother wanted cupcakes.
I didn’t scream. I didn’t beg again. I just looked at the admissions bracelet on my wrist with my name beside Daisy’s and tried to breathe.
Then my phone buzzed with another message I didn’t open, and the doctor stepped into the room holding Daisy’s chart like it suddenly weighed too much.
His eyes went from me to the door.
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"Your mother just called the ICU," he said. "She claimed she’s Daisy’s legal guardian and told my staff you’re too unstable to make medical decisions."
The hallway outside my daughter’s room went dead silent.