Chương 4
Hannah looked at his empty arms.
“He’s stable,” Ethan said quickly. “His fever came down a little.”
“How much?”
“Half a degree.”
“Did he eat?”
“They gave him fluids. They’re going to try feeding soon.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“No.”
She turned her face toward the window.
Rain had begun sometime after noon, ticking against the glass. Ethan noticed it only because Hannah did.
He pulled the visitor chair beside the bed. “The social worker came.”
“I met her.”
“She said CPS has to investigate.”
“I know.”
“She asked whether we have somewhere else to stay.”
Hannah gave a small laugh that contained no amusement. “Because your mother owns our house.”
“We rent it.”
“From your mother.”
“From the company.”
“Which your mother owns.”
Ethan rubbed both hands over his face. “I’m not defending her.”
“You are correcting me in the exact way you always correct me when I say something about her that makes you uncomfortable.”
He lowered his hands.
Hannah continued watching the window. “Did you believe her?”
“No.”
“Not even for a second?”
He could have lied. The lie would have been easy and kind and useless.
“I didn’t know what happened.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“When she said you were confused, I wondered if you were.”
Hannah nodded slowly.
“I’m sorry.”
“I was confused.” She looked at him then. “I hadn’t slept. My breasts hurt. My stitches hurt. Noah was crying, then he wasn’t. I couldn’t find the thermometer because your mother moved everything in the kitchen again. I dropped a bottle. I called the pediatrician twice and got the answering service. I was scared. None of that meant I didn’t know my baby needed a hospital.”
“I know.”
“You know now.”
The rain struck harder against the glass.
Ethan looked at the gauze around her wrists. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“The police told us not to question each other.”
“I’m your husband.”
“That didn’t help me this morning.”
He flinched.
Hannah watched the flinch, and some of the hardness left her expression. Not forgiveness. Recognition.
She picked at the corner of the hospital blanket. “Your mother came in before eight with a bag of groceries and Brittany behind her. Diane took one look at me and asked if I’d brushed my hair.”
Ethan said nothing.
“She kept asking questions. How long had Noah fed, when had he slept, how many diapers, why was the kitchen messy. She told Brittany to write things down.”
“Write what down?”
“Everything I did wrong.”
“Did you see Brittany writing?”
“She had her phone out.”
“Brittany says her phone was in the kitchen.”
“It was later.”
Hannah’s breathing changed. She pressed her lips together and waited until she could continue.
“Noah wouldn’t latch. He felt hot. I asked Brittany to find the thermometer. Diane said I’d wrapped him too tightly. Then she said the room was too warm. Then she told me newborns always felt hot because their circulation was immature.”
Ethan had heard his mother say that before. She had said it with such confidence that he had repeated it to Hannah two nights earlier.
“I tried to call the pediatrician again. Diane took my phone.”
“Out of your hand?”
“She said she wanted to speak to them because I was making no sense. I wouldn’t give it to her. She grabbed it. I tried to take it back.”
“Did you hit her?”
“No.”
“Did you hit Brittany?”
“No.”
“Did you threaten them?”
Hannah’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking like a cop?”
“Because those are the things they’re going to ask.”
“They already did.”
“What did you say?”
“The truth.”
He looked down.
Hannah drew a slow breath. “I said I would break the window if they didn’t let me out.”
Ethan looked up.
“I had Noah in my arms. Diane stood in front of the door. Brittany had my phone. I said I was taking him to the hospital. Your mother said I wasn’t going anywhere in that condition. I tried to move past her. Brittany reached for Noah. I turned away. I told them if they didn’t open the door, I’d break the front window and scream.”
“Did you?”
“No. I tried to get to the back door.”
“What happened?”
“Diane took Noah.”
The words seemed to reduce the oxygen in the room.
“How?”
“Brittany held my arms. Diane pulled him away.”
“Did she hurt him?”
“I don’t know.” Hannah’s voice cracked. “I don’t know, Ethan. He cried. He cried hard for maybe ten seconds, and then she had him. She gave him to Brittany and pushed me onto the couch.”
Ethan stood without meaning to.
Hannah stopped speaking.
He walked to the sink, turned on the water, then turned it off without using it.
“Why were your wrists tied?”
“I kept trying to stand up.”
“With the robe belt?”
“Yes.”
“Where did it come from?”
“The guest room. Your mother brought it when she came back from getting towels.”
“She left the room?”
“Brittany sat on me.”
The water dripped from the faucet in slow, bright drops.
“She said she was trying not to hurt me,” Hannah said. “She kept saying that.”
Ethan braced both hands against the sink.
“Your mother wrapped the belt around my wrists. She said she’d untie me when I calmed down. I begged Brittany to call you. She said you were driving. Diane said you’d agreed they should manage me until you got home.”
“I never said that.”
“I know.”
He turned.
Hannah’s eyes were wet now, but her voice remained level. “I know because you don’t use the word manage. She does.”
Ethan sat again.
“When did Brittany leave?”
“After Noah stopped crying. He made this little sound. Almost like a cough, but softer. Brittany went white. Diane told her to bring a wet cloth. Brittany walked out of the room and didn’t come back.”
“And the ambulance?”
May you like
“Celia came through the front door with the paramedics. Your mother was still holding my phone.”
“Where is it now?”
