Page 60 of Unwell
My throat split with a sob as I drew the ribbon tight.
Her last cry fluttered against my lips like a sigh and I counted to one hundred.
And then only silence remained.
I hummed, rocking her in my arms as the world narrowed to her and me, bound together forever by one pink ribbon.
THIRTY-SIX
NANCY
My muddy clothing and wild hair brought a cascade of questions when I burst into Wellard, but I hadn’t had time to explain. No one had seen Ginny for hours, and I tore through the wards, hunting for her.
The basement was my last hope. Back to the place where I’d found the rats. If everything I thought was correct, she’d killed them there.
Thin, broken lilts of a lullaby drifted through the abandoned halls, making me pale. I tried to convince myself that people sang to their bumps. It meant nothing. Yet, my stomach roiled as I followed the song.
‘Never a tear, baby of mine.’
There was no crying. No gurgling. Just silence and her fractured song.
I followed it down deeper past rooms only used inthe dark. Worry filled every step as I trembled, the chill from the storm taking root.
In the very bowels of the asylum, surrounded by damp and rot, I found Ginny.
The stench hit first, like hot meat and syrup. I covered my mouth as I entered the pipe-lined room. Ginny sat in the middle of it, legs open and a dark pool staining the concrete beneath her. A thick, white cord connecting her to a bundle of pink against her chest. Pink at the bottom. Purple up top. The babe lay limp, a ribbon of pink trailing down her back.
Rats, alive this time, darted in and out of the corners, their claws clicking and slick bodies bold enough to edge closer.
‘You can’t take her,’ Ginny whispered, the sordid little lullaby ceasing.
My throat locked. I wanted to run over and strangle her. To curse her for what she’d done. For killing innocent babies. But none of it would help. It took everything to inhale and release the rage.
‘I won’t.’
I moved closer, every step breaking my heart a little more.
Ginny’s face glowed with a deluded pride.
‘Isn’t she lovely, Nancy? My sweet girl.’ She moved the baby to her arms and rocked it like it was sleeping. Like she didn’t feel the lack of life in her arms.
My limbs felt weak as I sank down beside her, losing the will to care about sitting in the labour juices.
‘Darling…she’s so beautiful. She’s perfect.’ My mouth dried as I forced the words out.
‘May I? I asked, stretching out a hand. Ginny nodded. The purple cheek was soft beneath my touch, and sickeningly cold.
It felt like my heart grew ten times heavier in my chest as I choked down a sob.
Because this child was so nearly mine.
She was the last chance I had at a baby of my own. The last piece of Robert. His blood and my dreams in one package born of pain and deceit. I’d wanted the child as fiercely as I’d hated my husband in the end.
And now she was gone.
Stolen.
One of the rats splashed through the pool beneath us, its tail leaving a sticky streak.
