Daniel tore off his hospital bracelet and threw it into the trash.
“I’m leaving,” he said. “And if you ever come after me, I’ll destroy you.”
Then he walked out.
No kiss. No goodbye. No final look. Not even a name for one of his children. FamilyLaw
Evelyn paused at the door.
“You should be grateful,” she said. “We’re giving you a chance to disappear.”
Then she followed him.
The door closed. The nurses whispered. Somewhere down the hall, a baby cried.
I did not scream.
I reached for the nearest bassinet and touched my daughter’s cheek. Family