Where the Blame Lies - Mia Sheridan Page 0,82

Her voice sounded so scratchy, dry.

He knelt next to her, bringing a water bottle to her lips. She made a sound of desperation, of gratitude, her gaze holding with his as he tipped the bottle back and poured the sweet water into her parched mouth. When he took the empty bottle away, she pulled herself up, laying the baby on the mattress and quickly grabbing Marshall. His gaze shot to her hand holding his forearm. “Take him,” she said. “Leave me here but take him. You assigned blame to me and I deserve it. I deserve it all. But him”—she tipped her head toward her child, his face angelic in sleep—“he’s blameless.” A small mewling sound came up her throat as a pain shot through her abdomen. She had a severe infection. She was dying. Her milk had dried up, either from lack of hydration, or the illness her body was fighting. “He’s innocent,” she rasped. “He doesn’t deserve to die. Maybe I do, but not him. Not your son. This living piece of you. Take him to a hospital, or a church. Somewhere. Just leave him there. Please, please, please.” Her words dissolved into gasping sobs.

For two heartbeats, three, his eyes bore into hers, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Her breath stalled, heat rushing through her fever-ravaged body. The room swayed, as her heart thundered in her ears.

In one quick movement, Marshall scooped their son from beside her, the portion of quilt that had been wrapped around him falling away. No! No! Despite her plea of a moment before, Josie cried out, reaching for him, scrabbling to bring herself to a sitting position so she could snatch him back. Nonono. What had she done? “Don’t hurt him,” she begged. “He’s innocent. He’s just a baby. Please, please.”

Marshall stood, turned, the baby cradled in his arms. Caleb was naked, his pearlescent skin shining in the small amount of light streaming through the window. Nonono! Her beloved baby lay cold and helpless in the arms of a masked monster. Josie’s heart lurched with panic. Snatched from his warm cocoon, from his mother’s breast, Caleb began shrieking. “Don’t hurt him!” she screamed again, her voice breaking on a sob. Josie continued to reach for her son, the chain at her shackled wrist biting into her skin as she struggled desperately to pull her body forward. Just one last touch, one last kiss, whispered words that he might carry in his soul, if not his memory. Her sobs grew increasingly shrill as Marshall moved away. “Please, please, please!” she cried.

Marshall walked out the door. The door clicked behind him. Her baby was gone. Josie was alone once more. She collapsed back onto the mattress, pulling her knees to her chest, sobbing with the crushing grief pressing into her broken heart. Caleb’s cries mingled with hers, growing distant, fading as mother and son wailed desperately to be returned to one another. Finally, the call of her infant drifted away into nothingness as though he’d never existed at all.

Josie cried until she couldn’t cry any more, until her fever swept her away into a deep, dark void. She surfaced and then faded, floating on a sea of sickness and devastation, her empty arm still cradling what was no longer there. She wished for death. She no longer had a reason to live.

At some point—she didn’t know how long it’d been—she woke to the sound of the door unlocking. She opened her eyes blearily but didn’t move. Marshall came in, his posture strange. Different. For a moment he simply stood and looked at her. “He’s taken care of.” His tone was odd, she didn’t know how to describe it. He wavered again, split. Became two.

She tried to lift her head but was too weak. “Where is he?” she asked, but he ignored her as though she hadn’t said the words. Maybe she hadn’t.

He threw a bag at her. “This is the last one you’ll get,” he said flatly. “I won’t be back.”

After he left, after his footsteps had faded away, Josie stared at the fast food bag on the floor. She closed her eyes. She wouldn’t eat it. She wouldn’t prolong this agonizing torture one minute longer.

She slept again. A sound pulled her from her sleep. The cry of an infant. Her baby. Right there in the room with her. But when she opened her eyes, there was no one there. No sound could be heard. Agony gripped her. Everything hurt. Her body. Her heart.

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