Regret is the Punishment novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: Visiting Hours

Nine days after the fire, Darla asked for me.

The nurse found me in the waiting room and said it quietly.

"She says she wants her mom. The doctor thinks it's good for her."

"And her father?"

"He's with her. He said you can come in, but you'll follow the rules."

I washed my hands for two full minutes at the sink in the hall.

Then I put on a yellow gown and a paper mask, and I walked through the door I had been looking at for nine days.

The room was warm and quiet.

Jerome stood against the far wall with his arms crossed.

He didn't look at me, and he didn't tell me to leave.

Darla lay propped on pillows with the oxygen tube gone from her nose.

Her arms were wrapped from the wrist to the shoulder, and her new short hair was brushed flat.

She looked small.

She looked like somebody else's child, someone who had learned to be careful.

"Hi, baby," I said.

"Hi, Mommy."

Her voice was still hoarse, with a sandpaper edge.

I pulled the stool up to the bed and sat, with my hands in my lap so I wouldn't touch her anywhere that hurt.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"Only when they change the wrappings. Then I think about ducks."

I laughed, and it came out wet.

"Ducks."

"Daddy said to think about something happy. So I picked the ducks on my wall."

My throat closed.

I nodded, because I couldn't speak.

Darla watched me with her father's gray eyes.

They were too clear for a little girl who had just been taught what fire does.

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