Chương 7
“Was it?”
“That isn’t the point.”
“It can be two things.”
“He offered to put me in one of his rentals if I signed a temporary guardianship agreement.”
Claire saw Earl’s hands begin to shake more violently.
“You signed?”
“No.”
“You considered it.”
“I considered having heat.”
The answer stopped him.
Lena looked down at the baby. “I missed work because of the blood pressure. Then I got put on bed rest. The restaurant replaced me. Rent got behind. Hal said I could either act like a mother or wait for the state to decide I wasn’t one.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Why didn’t you open the envelopes?”
Neither had an answer that improved the room.
Earl took a slow breath. “What made you leave the hospital?”
Lena glanced at Claire.
Claire said, “You don’t have to answer in front of me.”
“Yes, I do.” Lena’s voice dropped. “Hal came to my room.”
“He wasn’t authorized,” Claire said.
“He got in before the visitor restriction was placed.”
“What did he say?”
“That the hospital had already called child services. That he had photographs of me at recovery meetings. That he had proof I’d relapsed.”
“Did you?” Earl asked.
Lena’s eyes flashed. “You too?”
“I need the truth.”
“You need to feel useful.”
“Probably. Tell me anyway.”
She turned toward the incubator. For several seconds, the only sound was the tiny hiss of oxygen.
“I took a pill,” she said.
Claire did not move.
Earl asked, “What pill?”
“Oxycodone.”
“Prescribed?”
“No.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
“One?”
Lena gave him a tired look. “Does the number change the answer?”
“It changes things.”
“Three over two days.”
“Where’d you get them?”
“Someone from group.”
“Who?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Then you’re still protecting the supply.”
“I am protecting someone who also has a life.”
Earl leaned closer. “Your daughter has a life.”
Lena recoiled as if he had struck her.
Claire stepped between the ends of the incubator. “Lower your voice.”
“I’m not shouting.”
“You don’t have to.”
Earl’s jaw worked. He looked at the baby, then at Lena.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Lena crossed her arms.
“Were there any other substances?” Claire asked.
“No.”
“Any use since?”
“No.”
“Did you disclose the pills when you were admitted?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew what would happen.”
“What happened was that your drug screen was negative and your baby’s initial screen was negative. Disclosure would not automatically have determined custody.”
“You can say that because nobody has ever taken a picture of you entering a recovery meeting.”
Claire let the accusation stand.
Earl said, “Hal knows?”
“I told Jonah about my addiction before our second date. Jonah told his parents when we got engaged. Hal decided it explained everything he didn’t like about me.”
“What did he show you at the hospital?”
“A photograph of me outside Denise’s apartment.”
“Who’s Denise?”
“The woman from group.”
“The one with the pills?”
Lena did not answer.
Earl looked away.
“He said he’d file for emergency custody,” she continued. “He said if I cooperated, he’d let me visit. If I fought him, he’d make sure every court saw the picture.”
“So you ran,” Claire said.
“I thought if I got to my sister in Ohio—”
“You have a sister?” Earl asked.
“No. I have someone I called my sister when we lived in a halfway house. She stopped answering me last year.”
“Then why Ohio?”
“Because the bus went there.”
The confession emptied the remaining argument from the room.
Earl gripped the incubator rail until his knuckles whitened. “You were going to leave the baby?”
“I was going to get stable.”
“You were going to cross state lines two days after surgery without telling anyone where you were.”
“I was scared.”
“So was she.”
Lena looked at the baby. “I know.”
“No,” Earl said, then stopped himself. His voice softened. “You keep saying that.”
Lena’s mouth trembled.
Claire left them with Dana Pike, who had entered quietly during the confession. In the hall, Claire leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
Tessa approached carrying two syringes in a plastic tray. “Bad?”
“Human.”
“That bad, then.”
Claire almost smiled.
The next complication arrived through procedure rather than revelation. Child protective services opened an assessment based on Lena’s departure, unstable housing, prior substance-use history, and lack of a verified discharge plan. No one removed the baby; there was nowhere to remove her from while she remained in intensive care. Instead, a caseworker named Monica Hale began asking questions that everyone experienced as judgment, even when they were necessary.
Lena had to document recovery attendance, submit to random drug testing, sign releases for prenatal care, and provide names of potential support people. Her eviction hearing was scheduled for the following month. She had less than four hundred dollars in her account.
Hal filed a petition seeking temporary guardianship upon discharge.
Earl offered to pay Lena’s rent. She refused.
He offered again through Dana. Lena refused more angrily.
“He thinks money is an apology,” she said.
Dana replied, “Sometimes money is rent.”
“I don’t want to owe him.”
“You already asked him to help raise your child.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
Lena hated the question enough to think about it.
Earl attended every training the NICU required. Infant CPR exposed the limits of his hands. He could position two fingers correctly on the practice mannequin, but sustained compressions made his right hand spasm. He learned an alternate technique under the instructor’s supervision. He struggled with the tiny syringe used for medication, so an occupational therapist found a larger grip attachment. He could not reliably fasten the smallest diaper tabs while wearing gloves. Without gloves, he managed slowly.
He did not hide any failure.
Claire watched him practice feeding-tube measurements with a plastic doll. He repeated the process until his shoulders ached. When frustration made him curse, he apologized to the doll.
“You know she can’t hear you,” Claire said.
May you like
“Good. I used an expensive word.”
“You used it incorrectly.”
