The Daughter He Let Die
Lily lay so still against the crisp white sheets, her small chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.
I moved to her bedside on silent feet, not wanting to disturb the precious rest she so desperately needed. My fingers trembled as I reached out to brush a stray curl from her forehead, her skin was so cool beneath my touch.
*What a pity soul,* I thought, the words catching in my throat like a sob. I don't want to lose my daughter. I don't want her to suffer. I don't want her to die.
And Marcus, where was Marcus when our daughter needed him most? The thought brought a fresh wave of anger, hot and sharp. While I sat vigil beside our dying child, he was probably somewhere else which I
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