Leah was sitting on the couch, wrapped in layers of blankets, with her back to the door. She didn’t move when Therese walked in. She sat silently, and when she finally turned her head, Therese wished that she hadn’t. One of Leah’s eyes was swollen shut and a urine-colored circle ringed the other. Dried brown blood caked the corner of her mouth and her arm was wrapped in a sling. Hurt sunk so far down inside of Therese that for a minute she wasn’t sure she could speak. She walked to the couch and sat beside Leah. She took Leah’s uninjured hand and cupped it between her own, blowing on it as if it was cold. She remembered when Leah had done the same for her before Matilda was born.

“I am sorry,” Therese said.

Leah started to speak, the words sputtering up like broken glass through her brown, cracked lips. “It’s my fault.”

“No.”

“I should have known.” She took her hand away and wrapped it around her bandaged one like a broken wing.

“Brutality disguised as kindness. You can thank your father.”

Leah closed her eyes and seemed to deflate. “It’s done. He’s never coming back.”

Suddenly everything felt like it was moving too fast and Therese felt feverish. “I should have done more. I should have protected you.”

Leah lifted her head, her swollen eyes filling with tears, and slipped her hand back inside Therese’s. They stared at the television screen, which was on but muted.

“There is something I need you to do for me.” Leah’s voice was so raw, Therese wondered if it hurt to speak.

“Anything.”

Leah stood, her shoulders curved slightly, and walked toward the kitchen, the blankets dragging behind her. She returned carrying a basket and motioned for Therese to look inside. When she did, Therese stumbled back, the air escaping her lungs. She made a pitiful coughing sound.

“This is Frances. I named her that because it means free.”

“She’s beautiful.” The baby’s eyes moved back and forth between them, but other than that she was silent.

“And I want you to take her.”

Therese looked closer into the basket. She could tell by the smell that her diaper needed to be changed. The baby turned her head toward Therese’s touch in a reflex she immediately recognized. Hunger.

“I will look after her until you feel better.”

“No,” Leah shook her head. “I want you to take her. For good.”

It was the strangest moment of silence Therese had ever experienced. As the people on the television moved quickly back and forth, Leah handed her a basket with the quietest baby she had ever seen tucked away inside.

“You’ve been through a lot. I’ll take care of her until you are ready to take her back.”

“No. I cannot protect her. I cannot take care of her. Ever.”