Page 53 of Finding Amanda

The nurse breezed in, checked on their daughter, and breezed back out. They stood and watched Madi breathe, letting the silence relax the girls. The steady hum of the nebulizer filled the room, eventually lulling Madi to sleep. Mark indicated a chair against the wall. "Let's sit down."

She did, dropping her purse on the linoleum floor.

Mark rolled the doctor's chair beside her and sat, pulling Sophie onto his lap. Eventually, she drifted off.

They sat in silence. A half hour had passed when the nurse returned, unplugged the breathing machine, and carefully pulled the mask off Madi's sleeping head. She patted her forehead and turned for the door.

"How much longer until we can go home?" Mark asked in a hushed voice.

"I'll check with the doctor." The nurse closed the heavy door with a soft click.

Mark rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Could he be sleeping at a time like this? No, his lips were moving.

Her stomach squeezed into a ball. Why did the thought of her husband praying cause her such anxiety? Was it because she knew her own shameful past had been the catalyst that took him to church? Or was it because those same terrible things in her past would keep her away from God forever? If there even was a God which, after everything she'd been through, she highly doubted.

He caught her staring and gave her a half-smile. "You okay?"

She shrugged. Whatever. If he wanted to believe in some higher power, who was she to argue?

She looked at her frail daughter on the bed. "Any idea what triggered it?" she whispered.

"Nope. She coughed a couple of times at dinner."

Amanda shifted to face him. "She was coughing? That's a clue. You should've?—"

"Two little coughs. Nothing serious. Just like she always does."

A wave of irritation. "Something had to cause it. Did you dust before she came over? You know she's allergic to dust."

His lips tightened. "Of course I dusted. I know her triggers."

"Obviously you missed one tonight."

Sophie stirred in her father's arms, shifting her head on his shoulder.

"Please keep your voice down," he said.

Amanda glared at him.

"So you think this is my fault?" he asked.

"I'm just saying something caused this. That crappy apartment you rented is probably filled with mold or something. You should've gotten something nicer."

"I have something nicer, Amanda. But you kicked me out."

"You'll have to move," she said, shoving away the guilt his remark stirred up. "One of the ladies at my class tonight lives right off Route 3 in those new condos. Why don't you look into those?"

"I'm not moving again."

"So you're willing to risk your daughter's life?—"

"My apartment didn't cause this."

Amanda pushed her hair behind her ear to better glare at him. "You sound pretty sure of that. So what caused it, oh wise one?"

"Stress."

She smirked. "She's six. What does she have to be stressed about?"

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