Chapter 4: What Emma Said in the Quiet Room
Dr.
Karen Holt's practice was a twenty-minute drive from the house.
Emma sat in the back seat with her hands folded in her lap.
She asked once if they were going to the doctor and Daniel said yes.
She didn't ask why.
That, too, was the kind of thing that stayed with him.
The waiting room had low chairs and a fish tank in the corner.
Emma pressed her finger against the glass and watched a small orange fish turn away from her.
"Does your head still hurt?" Daniel asked.
Emma shrugged.
"A little."
"Where?"
She reached back and touched a spot near the crown of her head.
She did it quickly, without drama, the way you touch a bruise you've stopped expecting sympathy for.
Daniel looked at the fish tank and said nothing.
Dr.
Holt saw them within fifteen minutes.
She was a calm woman in her fifties with reading glasses pushed up on her head and a manner that made children feel like the most important person in the room.
She shook Emma's hand first, then Daniel's.
"Emma," she said, pulling her chair close, "your dad tells me you bumped your head.
Can you show me where?"
Emma showed her.
Dr.
Holt examined the area carefully.
She asked Emma to follow a small light with her eyes.
She asked if Emma felt dizzy or sick.
Emma said no to both.
Then Dr.
Holt looked at Daniel.
"Can I speak with Emma alone for just a few minutes?"
Daniel nodded and stepped into the hallway.
He stood with his back against the wall and looked at the ceiling.
Down the corridor a child was laughing at something.
A phone rang at the reception desk.
The ordinary sounds of an ordinary afternoon.
He thought about the recording.
About the way Emma had already known not to tell him.
Twelve minutes later, Dr.
Holt opened the door.
"Emma's drawing in there," she said quietly.
"Come and sit down."
They went into a small side room.
Dr.
Holt closed the door.
"Physically she's fine," she said.
"No signs of concussion.
The tenderness will pass."
"And otherwise?"
Dr.
Holt looked at him steadily.
"Emma told me this has happened before.
Not always the hair.
But raised voices.
Being grabbed by the arm.
Being told she was stupid when she made mistakes."
Daniel's hands were flat on his knees.
He didn't move them.
"She also told me she didn't tell you because she didn't want you to be sad."
The corridor outside was still making its ordinary sounds.
Someone laughed again at the far end.
"She's been protecting me," Daniel said.
"Yes." Dr.
Holt paused.
"Daniel, I'm a mandatory reporter.
Given what Emma has described, I have an obligation to make a referral to children's services.
I want you to know that before I do it, not after."
"Do what you need to do."
"It doesn't mean—"
"I know what it means." He looked at her.
"Do what you need to do."
Dr.
Holt nodded.
She slid a card across the table toward him.
"There's a family law solicitor on that card.
She's good.
She's dealt with situations like this before."
Daniel picked up the card.
He turned it over once, then put it in his pocket.
"Can I take Emma home now?"
"Yes.
Keep an eye on her tonight.
And Daniel—" Dr.
Holt stopped him at the door.
"You came in today.
That matters."
He went back to the drawing room.
Emma had filled half a page with a yellow house and a very large sun.
She held it up when she saw him.
"It's our house," she said.
"I made the sun bigger."
"I see that." He took her hand.
"Ready?"
"Can we get chips on the way?"
"Yeah," he said.
"We can get chips."
They walked out through the waiting room together.
Emma waved at the orange fish on the way past.
Daniel's phone buzzed in his pocket.
He glanced at the screen.
It was a message from a number he didn't recognize.
May you like
*You need to know what she told your mother-in-law last week.
Call me.*
