Chapter 10: Randall's POV

Randall's POV

I drove to Rowan Children's with my wife's wedding ring in my breast pocket.

She had left it on the dock rail, and when she walked up the hill with her brother, I picked it up.

I had not been told to keep it, and I had not been told to leave it.

Jasper's room was dim, and the monitor over his bed was beeping in a steady, quick rhythm.

He was asleep with his mouth open and his drawing pad on his chest.

A nurse was changing his IV bag, and she gave me a short nod.

"His temperature's coming down," she said. "He's been asking for you."

"Where's his mother?"

"She went to the cafeteria. She said she couldn't breathe in here."

I sat in the chair by the bed.

For five years, I had sat in this kind of chair, and in the one at the lake, and in the one in the kitchen of Regina's rented duplex.

I had always told myself it was temporary.

Jasper's hand was hot and dry when I took it.

He opened his eyes.

"Dad?"

The word cut through me.

"I'm here, buddy."

"Did you bring the baby's mom?"

"Not today."

"Is she mad at you?"

I tried to laugh, and it didn't work.

"A little," I said. "I did something I shouldn't have."

"You can say sorry," Jasper said, and he closed his eyes. "That's what Mom says."

He was asleep again before I could answer.

I sat there with his hand in mine and thought about my daughter in a paper crown, looking at an empty chair.

The nurse came back to hang a new bag.

When she turned to the whiteboard, a folder slid off the end of the bed table and landed on my shoe.

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