Chapter 3

I took Nora to the funeral home alone.

The staff frowned when they saw her bruised, blue face.

"What kind of parents are you people? If you don't know how to raise a child, then keep it in your pants and don't have one!

This poor baby—her life taken by a single mouthful of milk!"

Every word cut straight to the heart. Guilt and hatred wrapped around me like a net, until I couldn't breathe.

I watched with my own eyes as she was wheeled in, and when she came back out, she was just a handful of ashes.

In three months, I'd fed her up from a premature four pounds seven ounces to ten pounds.

That chubby, soft little dumpling could now only lie quietly in the cold, hard urn.

Winston had driven off in our only car.

So all I could do was stand on the roadside by the funeral home and try to flag down a ride.

But I waited all morning and flagged down thirty cars, and not one of them was willing to carry an urn of ashes—they all thought it was bad luck.

My phone rang. It was Winston.

When the call connected, he saw me, and his voice paused.

"Where did you run off to again? Nora's had a bit of a cold these past few days—she can't be out in the wind!"

My nose stung, and my voice came out hoarse.

"Nora doesn't need a doctor anymore, because she's already lying in a box! Winston, you caused all of this!"

"In your heart, Paula matters more than anything!"

Winston's frown deepened.

"What box?"

"I stay home with the baby every day. What's wrong with going out for a little while?"

"Yesterday was the last day Paula and I could spend together—how could I not go?"

"Adeline, we have our problems, but can you please stop taking it out on the baby!"

The urn in my arms was so light.

Just like when Nora was newborn, and I held her so carefully.

Afraid she'd break.

My throat felt stuffed with wet cotton, dull and airless.

"Winston, you killed our baby! Give me back my Nora!"

Before I could finish, a sweet, simpering female voice came from the other end. It was Paula.

She appeared in front of the camera in a strapless wedding gown, then turned her back as if put out.

"Winston, it's all your fault for being too rough last night—you broke the zipper on my back. What are we supposed to do now?"

A flash of panic crossed Winston's face as he explained to me.

"Don't get the wrong idea. All the guys were here last night. I was just joking around with Paula and broke the zipper by accident."

"Adeline, bring over that wedding dress you set aside for yourself, so Paula can borrow it in a pinch!"

I couldn't believe it. "You know that wedding dress was left to me by my mother! Why should I give it to her?"

Paula slipped her arm through Winston's. "If your wife doesn't want to, then forget it. Worst case, I'll just have someone go rent one."

Winston immediately shot that down.

"Absolutely not! How could you wear something secondhand?"

Then he turned his head, his eyes darkening.

"Adeline, it's just a wedding dress. Do you really have to watch Paula make a fool of herself on such an important day to be happy?"

"If you hadn't butted in back then, you'd never have had the chance to wear that dress at all!"

I opened my mouth, and every bit of hurt and resentment vanished completely.

I wiped my tears and forced a smile at the camera.

"Fine. I'll bring it over!"

"The wedding car leaves in half an hour, so you'd better hurry! I'll send you the address!"

After I hung up, I held the urn tightly and set off toward the address Winston had sent.

I would bring something over—but not a wedding dress. I'd bring our child's ashes, and the divorce papers!