Her Deadly Date

My wife, wanting to spend a romantic birthday date with her first love, added a dose of sleeping medication to the milk bottle of our sick, crying daughter. The medicine took effect, and our daughter drifted into a deep sleep, which allowed them to enjoy a romantic, undisturbed date together.

When I came home, I found our daughter still sleeping. By the time we arrived at the hospital, it was too late.

I called my wife, but she answered with irritation. "Is it because I'm celebrating Shawn's birthday that you must ruin it? I'll go home after the celebration is over." Then, she turned off her phone.

Little did she know that, for the sake of one romantic date, she had taken our daughter's life.

For the Sake of a Romantic Birthday Date

When I got home, it was seven o'clock in the morning. Only the nanny was there, and the moment she saw me, worry crossed her face. She said, "Mr. Bedrock, Queenie didn't wake up all night and didn't even cry for milk. I tried to wake her up a moment ago, but she wouldn't respond. I was just about to give you a call."

I rushed into my daughter's room. She was lying there, looking as peaceful as a little angel.

"Queenie… Queenie," I called her name, but only silence greeted me. I took her small hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze, but there was still no response.

Panic clawed at me as I looked up. "Where's her mother?"

The nanny hesitated. "Mrs. Bedrock called me last night to watch over Queenie. She was already gone when I arrived and has yet to return. Queenie was already asleep when I got here."

I dialed Sandra Chance's number. She answered groggily, "What is it? Why are you calling me so early? Didn't I tell you that it was Shawn's birthday, and I would be staying at my bestie's house instead of returning home?"

I didn't want to press her about where she was, so I asked, "Did Queenie seem unwell yesterday? Did you give her any medicine? She's been asleep all night and hasn't woken up. She didn't even respond when I called her."

There was a slight pause before she answered sharply, "She's just tired and sleeping a bit longer. What's there to fuss about?"

I countered, "She's only eight months old. It's unlikely of her not to respond when I call her."

Impatience crackled in her voice as she snapped, "She was fussing nonstop last night, so I added a bit of sleeping medication to her milk bottle."

A numbness filled my head. "Sandra! She's only eight months old! Are you insane? Were you trying to kill her? How much did you give her?" I shouted.

She hesitated, stumbling over her words. "Just… just one pill. I take it myself sometimes, and I'm fine. What can possibly happen with such a small dose? Don't make this a big deal, Xavier." Then, she hung up on me.

I turned to the nanny. "Hold Queenie carefully. We're taking her to the hospital now."

The doctor's face went grim as I explained the situation, and Queenie was rushed into the emergency room.

Outside, a nurse admonished me. "Who gives sleeping pills to a baby? Do you have any conscience? Do you even know how to parent?"

Desperation welled up as I pleaded, "Please, save my daughter. I don't care what it takes or how much it costs."

The nurse shook her head. "Now you're in a rush? Where were you before?"

Moments later, another nurse came out and asked, "How much of the sleeping medication did the baby take? We need to know to determine the treatment."

I said, "Her mother said one pill."

The light above the emergency room stayed on, with no more doctors coming out to reassure me. Time became a blur until, finally, a doctor appeared, looking worn and deeply troubled. "The dose she ingested was far more than a single pill. We tried everything, but the delay in getting her here… I'm sorry. She's gone."

My mind went blank, and my body felt stiff. I could barely force the words out. "That's impossible. My daughter… she can't be dead. She's only eight months old."

They wheeled Queenie Bedrock out. I rushed over and gently touched her face. "Queenie, wake up. Please, look at Daddy. Queenie…"

My tears fell onto her face, but she remained as she was, eyes closed, as though merely asleep. I turned to the doctor. "Look, she's only sleeping. She can't be dead. Doctor, please check again."

Beside me, the nanny wiped away her tears. "It's all my fault. If only I had noticed sooner, maybe I could've done something. She was such a sweet child… Always smiling, so precious…"

With trembling hands, I dialed Sandra's number again, and after nine attempts, she finally picked up, irritation dripping from her tone. "Is it because I'm celebrating Shawn's birthday that you must ruin it? I'll go home after the celebration is over."

In the background, I heard the voice of her first love, Shawn Brenson, next to her. "Babe, breakfast's ready."

She hung up on me before I could say a single word. I tried calling again, but this time, her phone was turned off.

'You said you were staying at your bestie's house, but you're with Shawn,' I thought bitterly. I didn't need any more confirmation.

I closed my eyes. 'Sandra, it seems that to you, the happiness of our family means less than a birthday date with Shawn.'