Chapter <b>3 </b>
Gabriel picked up that boy and walked out without even ncing at my crying baby in my arms.
He never showed up again until my discharge day.
Standing at the hospital entrance trying to g down a taxi, even the starting fare made me hesitate. My wallet had three coins left – money that another patient’s family had slipped me.
I called Gabriel asking him to transfer me some cash.
“No money?” His voice was full of irritation. “You know how tight things are at home right now. Figure it out yourself.”
Through the ss window of a restaurant just fifty feet from the hospital entrance, I could see the three of them sitting around a table sharing cake. Gabriel was wiping cream off Vera’s mouth while the kid clutched a balloon and jumped into his arms. The warm yellow light stretched their shadows long across the floor, like a perfect family
portrait.
My baby suddenly started crying. I patted his back and turned away, every step feeling like walking on broken ss.
When I pushed open the wooden door to our rental, the hinges let out a harsh screech.
The wall calendar was still stuck on the day I went to the hospital. The bloodstains on the floor had turned dark brown, mixed with dust and hardened into crusty chunks that smelled like rust when you got close.
I didn’t even have the energy to guess where Gabriel had been these past few days or who he’d been with.
After putting the baby in his bouncer, I dragged my five–stitch wound down to scrub the floor.
When the disinfectant soaked through the gauze, the pain made everything go ck.
This tiny 100–square–foot room where you’d bump into furniture just turning around had drained every ounce of my strength.
I don’t know how long I’d been asleep when the sound of the door opening woke me. Gabriel was standing by the bed holding a bag with cartoon prints on it.
“Clothes for the kid.”
He handed me the bag, his voice deliberately gentle.
I touched the <i>soft </i>cotton fabric and froze. The carefully stitched cor still smelled like sunshine, and for a moment I thought he’d finally remembered he had a flesh–and–blood child.
Then my fingers found a milk stain on the sleeve that wouldn’t wash out. That crusty spot felt like a needle, bursting my fantasy wide open. These were clearly old clothes that had been worn for a long time.
On Mel
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My phone screen suddenly lit up with a photo from Vera.
She was wearing a new tinum bracelet while her kid was dressed in a luxury outfit. The background showed the VIP lounge of some high–end boutique.
“Gabriel was worried my son might feel left outpared to other kids, so he booked the whole floor just for us to shop. Picked me up some new jewelry too while we were there.”
“What you’re holding are my son’s old clothes. We were going to donate them to charity, but he said not to waste
them.”
“Some people are just born to live off other people’s leftovers.”
My hands shook violently as I clutched those clothes. He could humiliate me all he wanted, but how could he treat a newborn baby like this?
I threw the clothes right at his face.
“Even if I have to dig through trash, I won’t dress my kid in someone else’s hand–me–downs!”
Panic shed in his eyes before his face darkened.
“Money’s tight right now. Having clothes at all should be enough.”
He reached out to hug me, softening his voice.
“Once next month’s project paymentes in, I’ll buy the kid the best stuff. Just be patient.”
I turned away without saying anything. Those promises woven from lies had frozen solid during countless cold night
The next morning, I pulled out a wooden box from under the bed. Inside were the gold nes and bracelets that grandma and mom had left me. If thendlord wasn’t pushing for rent, I would never touch these things.
But I needed <i>to </i>take my child and leave, and that meant having money for travel and somewhere to stay.
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