The Family Origin

Chapter Forty-Two: MAISIE POV

The tension never left my muscles, and my anxiety kept my stomach twisted into a tight knot. Briar was sick, and neither Miles nor Joseph wanted to help. The three slashes on my arm throbbed every time I thought about asking Miles for a doctor. They thought I was being emotional and refused to believe me. I saved my tears for when they were outside. I clung to my baby during the day and sobbed. She was getting sicker, and I could feel that her time was running out. Her breathing was becoming more shallow, and she slept more during the day. When I tried to tell Miles, he dismissed my worries.

I prayed that Briar would be healthy again but felt impending doom.

I could lose my daughter.

The thought was haunting and would not leave my mind. I could not close my eyes and let myself fall asleep. I needed to be watching her breathing to ensure that she was still alive. Miles was annoyed that I was spending all night next to Briar's crib. He forced me to lay next to him in bed, hoping I would fall asleep. Once I would hear him snoring, I would sneak out of bed and go to Briar's crib.

Moonlight poured in through the window, but I could barely see my baby. Turning on a lamp would wake Miles, so I placed my hand on Briar's chest. Feeling the rise and fall of her chest calmed my anxiety enough to stop me from falling into complete panic. The edge of the crib pushed into my ribs as I leaned forward. One night, my eyes were heavy with exhaustion, and I fell into pockets of sleep as I leaned over Briar.

The sun was starting to rise when Miles's alarm rang, and my eyes fluttered open. My back ached from my position of leaning over the crib. I rubbed my eyes to clear my vision so I could look down at my baby.

Immediately, I knew something was wrong.

Briar's eyes were closed, but the blue ring returned around her lips. Her chest was no longer rising and falling. She was not breathing.

I reached down and shook Briar's shoulder. I prayed to see her eyes open or for her to start fussing. Her cries, even if they were weak, would be a heavenly sound. Briar did not move, even as I pushed harder on her shoulder.

I opened my mouth to say her name or get help from Miles, but the noise that left my lips was unrecognizable. The sound was a mixture of screams, cries, and prayers. Arms wrapped around my waist and ripped me away from the crib. I swung my fists and kicked my legs, desperate to get my way back to my daughter.

Briar was dead.

Miles was shouting my name, but the sound was a distant ring in my ears. My words were incoherent as I screamed for my baby. Through the slats of the crib, I could see her lifeless body. If I had not fallen asleep, could I have saved her?

My fighting was futile against Miles's large size, but I did not stop. He dragged me across the room and threw me onto the bed. My vision was blurry with tears. I heaved for breath, but I was not able to get air into my lungs, causing a crushing tightness in my chest. Miles was leaning over me, and I swung my hand to push him away. He caught my wrists in his grip and pinned them against the bed. I contorted my back in an attempt to escape his hold.

"Briar's dead!" I screamed. "She's dead!"

I could not see Miles's face because of my blurry vision. Did he have his usual blank expression as he watched me cry? Why was he not helping his daughter? Did he care that she was gone? He said nothing as he watched me struggle in his grip.

"She needed a doctor!" I screamed. "She was sick!"

Miles tightened his grip, crushing my wrists. The cuts on my arm throbbed. He would probably punish me again, but the thought was pushed to the back of my mind. I did not care if he cut my arm again. Our baby was lying dead in her crib.