A small dressing covered the injury behind her ear.
I sat beside her bed, holding one tiny hand between my fingers.
Claire had gone to get coffee.
Jamie stood near the doorway.
He hadn’t eaten.
Hadn’t slept.
Hadn’t complained.
He just watched Sophie.
“Daniel?”
I turned.
“Yeah?”
“Are you mad at me?”
The question nearly destroyed me.
I looked at the floor.
“I don’t know what I am right now.”
Jamie nodded slowly.
“I understand.”
Then he reached into his pocket.
For a moment, I thought he was going to show me the mysterious black object again.
Instead, he pulled out a folded piece of paper.
It was wrinkled and damp.
“What’s that?”
He handed it to me.
I unfolded it.
It was a drawing.
A baby with brown hair.
A blue teddy bear.
A yellow sun.
And two people holding hands.
Underneath, in Jamie’s careful handwriting, were four words.
