Marigold mentioned his name on occasion, so it was probably true that she remembered the name, if not the face. She nodded in response to his rather weak reassurance. “It has been busy.” It was also midnight, which of course meant the little girl was exhausted, but she felt no need to point that out. “A lot of new things to explore here. New people to talk to.”
Looking at him now, Leah could clearly see the purple bruises under his eyes, the lines on his face, the weariness in his expression. All evidence of how exhausted he was and how she’d turned a blind eye to it when the first signs began to crop up. This was exhaustion on par with what her sister had been through and, for her part, Leah felt ashamed of herself for not trying harder to prevent it. Maybe it was her own fault for trusting him so much, for believing that he’d never let something like this happen. Then again, maybe it was her own fault for expecting too much, as always.
Fainting wasn’t so bad. Fainting could happen to anybody. That was what Leah told herself as she sat on the edge of the bed and took the hand that didn’t have an IV plugged into it. Evan explained further that a panic attack had preceded his loss of consciousness, and she frowned down at his hand resting on her lap. This was the part where she probably would’ve yelled at him, were it not for her sleeping daughter’s presence. Panic attacks didn’t just happen. As someone with a twin who, up until these past few months, had frequently suffered from them, Leah knew there was always a cause.
“Panic attacks don’t just happen,” she said quietly. Her eyes rose to meet his. “Did someone say something to you, or do something, to set it off? It had to’ve been someone else, because you wouldn’t have done this to yourself… Right?”