“She said someone was holding her hand but if someone was here they left before we got here. Maybe the sitter got tired of waiting and went home.”
“Does she know?” I asked.
“We haven’t told her specifics,” an officer said. “We can bring in a chaplain from the unit.”
I shook my head. “That’s all right. She’s waited long enough.” I walked toward the bedroom and smiled at the little girl. She reached for the teddy bear next to her and the officer left the room. I sat down beside her on the bed. “Hi, Emily. My name’s Patricia.”
“Are you a friend of my mom’s?”
“No. I’m a social worker and I help take care of kids and families.”
“Are you going to help take care of me and my mom?” She hugged her teddy bear tight, waiting for what I was about to say.
My heart broke for her but I knew I couldn’t struggle for the words; I had to be honest. “Emily, your mom was in a terrible car accident tonight.”
Her face had no expression.
“She got hurt really bad and died before the ambulance could get her to the hospital.”
She stared at the floor.
“Do you understand?”
She nodded although I don’t believe she did comprehend what was happening.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No, no. You’re not in trouble at all. We’re here because we want to make sure you’re all right. Your mom told a policeman that you were here because she wanted to make sure you were safe.”
She looked up at me, confused.
“A policeman was helping your mom and you were the first thing on her mind. She told him that you were here.”
Emily buried her face in the bear and rocked side to side before reaching her arms for me. I lifted her up and held her on my lap. She put her arms around my neck and I could feel the soft fur of the teddy bear up against my face. An officer walked by the door, looking in. Emily didn’t cry; she just simply held on to me and remained quiet. I rubbed her back and rocked her back and forth. The master’s degree in counseling I received seven years earlier to further equip me as a social worker never seemed adequate to help me through a situation like this.
“Will my mom ever come home?” she finally asked. My heart sank.
I turned her so she could see me. “No, honey. She won’t.” She leaned her head on my shoulder and didn’t speak. No matter how old you are, those words always take your breath, leaving you numb. I knew it was too much to take in.
“Can I stay here?”
“I’ll need to take you to a house where you can be safe.”
“But I’m safe in my room.” She picked up a clock beside her bed. “When the clock looks like this I turn off the video and go to bed. I do everything like my mom says.”
I knew then that there hadn’t been a sitter but that Emily’s mom had left her alone. The circumstances of why Emily was alone would come out later but I knew that she had been cared for and loved.
I held her hand. “I know you were such a big girl tonight and that you were very brave but I need to make sure that you get to a place where you can sleep and eat without worrying about what the clock says.”
She picked up a stuffed bunny rabbit and held it in her arms. “Can I go to Miss Greta’s?”
“The policeman said she’s not home right now but I’ll make sure Greta is contacted in the morning.”
Emily was uncertain of what was happening. “Can I take my toys?”
I picked up the teddy bear and handed it to her. “Yes, and I’ll pack some of your clothes. Okay?” I waited for an answer.
“Are you going with me?”
“I’m going to drive you there.”
She shook her head. I hadn’t answered her question. “Are you going with me?”
I patted her hand. “I won’t be staying with you but I’m going to make sure that you have everything you need.”
She was quiet as I packed up what few clothes she had in her closet and drawers. I noticed a small catalog sitting on top of her chest of drawers and it was turned to a page with a little girl wearing a flowing lavender-and-pink princess gown. In my mind I could see Emily turning the page there and setting it atop her chest of drawers so her mother could see it. If she saw it, Emily was certain her mother would get the hint and buy it for her birthday or maybe help her petition Santa for it for Christmas. I stuck the catalog in my bag. I held out my hand for Emily but she didn’t want to take hold of it. She wanted to be held. An officer helped with Emily’s suitcase and I picked her up.
She looked into her room. “Can I ever come back?” she asked. This was the end of her memories in this house with her mother. For whatever part I played in that I wanted to make sure that Emily had a chance to say good-bye.