When He Fell by Kate Hewitt

assess his capabilities. And then we’ll begin rehabilitation.” She pauses. “But let’s take one thing at a time. If he opens his eyes in the next forty-eight hours, that would be great.”
    Disappointment swamps me.
If he opens his eyes?
That’s a lot slower than I expected, despite Dr. Velas’s warnings. I knew this was going to be a long haul, but the realization overwhelms me anyway.
    “Okay,” I say, and I try to smile.
    I set up a mini-office in a corner of the waiting room; there are a couple of other people there who look as tired and careworn as I do. We share weary, sympathetic smiles but we don’t engage. I can’t handle someone else’s story right now. I can cope with only so much pain.
    For the next couple of hours I answer work emails; Elena has appointed a junior associate, Evan, to cover my work and he’s been firing queries at me since he started. Clearly he doesn’t get the concept of compassionate leave.
    I don’t like my job and haven’t for years, but I’ve never had the luxury to consider retraining. I have zero savings beyond what I put aside for Ben’s tuition and no safety net. And the thought of someone doing my job for me, taking my place, is yet another thing that scares me. They can’t lay me off, I tell myself. I’m allowed compassionate leave. They can’t just
fire
me.
    In any case, I’m only on my third day of the ten vacation days I haven’t yet taken. I have a week left to think about my options. For Ben to get better.
    Around ten o’clock I get a call on my cell from Burgdorf. Maybe Mrs. James finally has some answers.
    Taking a deep breath, I answer the phone. “Hello?”
    “Ms. Reese?”
    “Yes.”
    “I wanted to update you on what happened on the playground,” she says, and my hand tenses around my cell.
    “Yes?”
    “I spoke to Mrs. Rollins yesterday and discovered that she had talked to some of the children who were on the playground when Ben fell.” A pause, and I can tell she’s considering her words carefully. “It appears Ben might have been pushed by another student.”
    “
Pushed?
”
    “Apparently they were having an argument.”
    That doesn’t really surprise me, because Ben is always annoying other kids, elbowing them out of the way, shouting in their face. But I don’t like the thought that she might be blaming Ben. “Where was he pushed?” I ask. “How did he fall? What did he hit his head on?”
    “I don’t yet know the answers to those questions—”
    “A report must have been filed,” I cut across her, my voice sharp. I feel like Mrs. James is keeping something back, and I want to know what it is.
    “I’ve looked at the report,” she says. “It says Ben fell from the climbing structure.” Which was what I had expected, but why didn’t Mrs. James tell me this earlier? Why didn’t Juliet tell me? Mrs. James continues briskly, “I can assure you, we have dealt with the matter. The student in question is being suspended for a week. Any further acts of aggression will result in expulsion.”
    “Okay.” I feel slightly heartened that they’re taking this seriously, even as I recognize the double standard in play. Ben has committed a few
acts of aggression
during his time at Burgdorf, and thankfully he’s never been suspended. But clearly this is a more serious matter. Accident or not, Ben’s life has been changed. So has mine. Someone needs to pay the price besides me and Ben, even if it’s just some nameless kid.
    “Of course, if there is anything else we can do…” Mrs. James says, trailing off delicately. “How is Ben?” I hear a slight nervous note in her tone, and I think she realizes she should have asked this earlier.
    “They’re going to attempt to bring him out of the coma soon,” I say. “So hopefully in a few days we’ll know how much damage his brain has sustained.” I manage to say this without my voice wobbling.
    “That’s good news,” Mrs. James says with more warmth than I’ve ever heard