“Honey, mommy knows you don’t feel well, but please, just try to drink a little water. You really need to drink some water, sweetie.”
“Jen—”
“Shut up. Baby, here, let me hold your head up for you. Just drink a little bit. Then you can sleep.”
“Jen, please.”
“You go to hell. I’m not leaving her like this.”
“Jen, she’s already dead.”
“She is not dead. She’s just sick. And you don’t care that our daughter is sick. You want to leave? Go. I’m not leaving our baby.”
Jen felt a cold chill: she hadn’t expected him to actually leave.
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