Chapter 62
SIXTY-TWO
The barista was flicking buttons on the coffee machine and filling steaming cups.
Now that Lara had been moved onto the children’s ward, the nurses had insisted Nancy take a quick break.
Away from the immediate task of caring for Lara, Nancy found her mind wandering to what had happened to her daughter that morning.
She pictured Rosie on the field. Saw them all running.
In her mind, she witnessed Rosie snatch away Lara’s inhaler.
Only this time, Nancy placed herself on the running track, saw her holding Rosie by the arm, her fingers gripping tightly, oh so very, very tightly.
She leaned right into Rosie’s face and the kid backed away, her expression a mixture of fear, cockiness and affront.
Nancy gripped her arm tighter still. Rosie squealed. Nancy felt a frisson of satisfaction.
‘You think you’re clever?’ spat Nancy. ‘Funny? You enjoy upsetting other kids? Making them terrified that they can’t breathe? You’re a vicious, nasty little brat.’
Stop.
Nancy snapped out of her daydream. Her heart was racing.
She took some deep breaths. Her mind kept wandering back to the torture of what Lara must have endured, the complete and utter terror at not being able to breathe, and she felt devastated.
And consumed with an anger that was primal in its intensity.
It threatened to take over everything: her mind, her rational thought, her sanity.
Don’t keep playing it over and over in your mind, she told herself. It will send you mad. Lara doesn’t need you mad, she needs you to fight for her. She took her freshly made coffee from the countertop and headed back up to the ward.