“She’s already humbling herself. Are you really this heartless?” he yelled in disappointment.
I gave a short, cold laugh. “She humbles herself, and that means I have to forgive her? Payton, my daughter is lying here, kept alive by machines, and you think I’m the one being heartless?!”
Sherree wept pitifully, clutching Payton’s sleeve.
“Payton, it’s all my fault… I was just too scared. I didn’t mean to hurt her, I only—”
“Only pressed a five-year-old child’s head underwater?” I cut her off, my voice sharp as a blade. “Sherree, do you have any idea that’s attempted murder?”
Her grip on Payton’s sleeve tightened. Her expression flickered.
“Delane,” Payton’s voice dropped into a stern tone, “enough. Sherree has already suffered enough. She’s been having nightmares lately. Isn’t that punishment enough?”
My throat constricted. I opened my mouth to speak. But then I caught the sudden twist of Sherree’s expression.
In a flash, she stood, her gaze darting across the room—then locking onto my daughter’s oxygen tube.
“She’s just a kid! I’ve apologized—what more do you want?!” Sherree shrieked.
“Murder, huh? Delane, do you just want me to beg you? Dream on!” she shouted. “You wretched woman!”