The last time Leah visited Evan in the infirmary, they’d been allies concocting the beginning stages of claiming Sing Sing as their stronghold. The last time she’d visited him when he was injured, she hadn’t cared as much about him as she did now, so seeing him like this — lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV — was hard. She kept it together, though. This wouldn’t be a repeat of her reaction to O’Brien and the wall. She could and would hold herself together, for Marigold’s sake.
That was only part of the reason she’d brought her daughter along. When Alghren came to get her, she debated for a few minutes about what to do with Marigold while she went to see Evan. Maybe bringing the girl into the scary medical ward wasn’t the best idea, nor was moving her around when she was fast asleep, but Leah wasn’t about to leave the girl alone, nor did she feel comfortable entrusting someone else to watch her. So, she brought Marigold with her. The physical reminder of the little girl kept Leah from panicking and making a scene. She wouldn’t yell, she wouldn’t break down, because Marigold, although she was asleep, didn’t need to be exposed to that weakness. She needed to know her mother — or the person taking care of her, rather — was strong.
It was only when Evan addressed the girl that Leah realized Marigold had woken up. She glanced down briefly in an attempt to veil the discomfort she felt for disturbing her daughter’s rest like this. Maybe I should’ve left her in our room, after all. It was too late to change the plan now. Instead, she pursed her lips in a smile and pushed messy strands of hair out of the girl’s face as she yawned.
“Marigold, this is,” she hesitated, considering how to reintroduce Evan, “Sir Evan, the nice man who brought you here.” Marigold, however, was too tired to care about giving a proper response. She gave Evan another smile before resting her head back against Leah’s shoulder. “She’s a little sleepy,” Leah told him, slightly apologetic.
Gently, she deposited the girl in the chair next to the bed, snorting a soft laugh when the girl curled up and went back to sleep. Leah would’ve preferred to watch Marigold sleep in that chair all night, rather than turn around and face her boyfriend and whatever this conversation entailed. She didn’t want to believe he’d done this to himself. She didn’t want to believe it was happening at all. She finally turned around, though.
“Hi,” she replied, moving closer to the bed. She briefly considered taking a seat on the end of the bed, but decided against it, at least until she knew the extent of whatever injuries he had, as well as how those injuries had occurred. “She told me that Zimmerman found you somewhere, passed out. That you were here in the infirmary. What happened, Evan? Are you all right?” Stupid question. “Of course you’re not all right, you’re in the infirmary…”