ADVERTISEMENT
panic for remorse.
But remorse sounds different. Remorse asks who it hurt. Panic asks what it lost.
“Goodnight, Daniel.”
I ended the call.
A minute later, the nurse came in.
She was older, with kind eyes and gray threaded through her dark hair. Her name badge said Patricia.
“Everything okay in here?” she asked gently.
I looked at my baby.
Then at my phone.continue reading …
ADVERTISEMENT