The Revenge of One Humiliated
— Here, I say, placing Chloe's ID on the mahogany counter.
The plastic is cold and smooth under my fingers. I feel her first name like a burn.
— Chloe Coleman, I declare, my voice strangely calm. Date of birth: March 14th. She is my daughter.
The words, in my mouth, taste of ash and metal.
Doctor Evans takes the card, glances at it quickly. His gaze moves from the photo to me, and then, mentally, toward the room where the young girl lies. I hold my breath. Will he see? Will he understand?