Chapter 11: Ten Minutes Under the Tap

"I'm crying because I'm glad you're awake," Terrence told her.

He crouched beside the bed so his face was level with hers.

"Grown-ups cry when they're happy," he said. "Don't tell the nurses."

Lottie considered that for a long time.

"Okay," she said. "I won't."

She yawned, and the yawn pulled at the bandage on her cheek.

"Where's Daddy?"

My stomach turned.

"He had to go back to work," I said.

I hated myself for it.

It was the only thing I could say to a five-year-old with a fever.

"Is Biscuit going to be okay?"

"He's going to be washed."

"Not too hard," she said, and closed her eyes.

Terrence stayed crouched there until her breathing slowed.

Then he stood up, and he swayed a little on his feet.

I walked out into the corridor and he followed.

I wanted to say something.

I did not know what to say to him.

He had just turned out to be my daughter's father.

"We don't tell her yet," I said.

"No."

"She's five. She's lost a third of her skin, and now she'd lose a father."

"I won't tell her until you say."

"Thank you."

"Hannah." He stopped. "Go home and sleep. I'll sit with her."

"I'm not leaving."

"Then sleep in the family room."

I did not sleep.

At four the next morning I was in the staff kitchen at the end of the unit.

I was making tea with a kettle that had no lid.

I was tired enough to forget it was hot.

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Saved Her Son and Let Mine Burn from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.