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At one in the afternoon, Dr. Schmidt and another doctor entered the room, serious expressions on their faces. Malcolm and Karissa stood up to meet them. “The X-rays show a blockage between the duodenum and the small intestine,” Dr. Schmidt said. “We’re not sure exactly what it is, but we feel the only way to correct it is through surgery.”

  Karissa slumped to the chair, holding Stephanie tightly. “Oh, no. I’ve been so sure her body would get better on its own. She’s gained nearly half a pound in two days.” She studied the doctor for a full minute without speaking. Then, “Are you sure she needs the surgery? We’ll want a second opinion, of course. And I want to see the X-rays.”

  Malcolm saw a flash of irritation in Dr. Schmidt’s face, but it was squelched quickly. “I knew you would want that,” he said coolly. “Which is why I brought my colleague, Dr. Mizra. He will tell you himself that he agrees with my diagnosis.” The brown eyes behind the curly lashes narrowed. “The bottom line is, do you want your daughter to die?”

  Karissa gasped at his insensitivity and began to cry. Malcolm grabbed Dr. Schmidt’s arm and pulled him to the door. “That’s enough,” Malcolm said. “I appreciate your work with Stephanie, but we need to be alone now.”

  Dr. Schmidt’s broad face showed remorse. “I’m sorry I had to say it that way. I felt she didn’t understand the seriousness of this situation. If Stephanie doesn’t have the surgery, she will die.”

  Malcolm looked at the other doctor. “Is this your opinion as well?”

  “Yes. The sooner she has the surgery, the better,” Dr. Mizra said. He was older than Dr. Schmidt by at least ten years, and graying hair framed his kind face.

  “Dr. Mizra has practiced pediatric surgery for more than thirty years,” said Dr. Schmidt. “He would be my choice for assisting me with the surgery, if you agree to it.”

  “I think Karissa and I are worried about unnecessary surgery,” Malcolm said. “You said you think that is what’s wrong. How can we be sure?”

  “We would never do any unnecessary surgery—especially on an infant as young as Stephanie,” Dr. Mizra said. “In fact, we’ve ordered a few more X-rays to see how the barium has been digested. The results will show conclusively whether or not surgery is our only recourse.”

  Malcolm liked this man, and thought Karissa would too, given the chance. “All right,” he said.

  “Dr. Mizra or I will check in with you after the X-rays, and if they confirm our suspicions, one of us will explain the surgery in detail,” Dr. Schmidt added. “Your wife will have time to get used to the idea by then.”

  “Thank you.”

  Malcolm returned to Karissa. He massaged her shoulders while explaining what the doctors had told him. He spoke quietly so the other parents in the room wouldn’t hear. “I feel they’re honest men,” he said. “And we’ve tried everything else, haven’t we?”

  “I guess so.” Her voice sounded oddly detached and lifeless.

  “Darn it all, Karissa, we knew it was something serious. At least I did. Now we’ll get it taken care of so that Stephanie can have a normal life—so that we can have a normal life.” He touched her chin, drawing her haggard face toward him. Even now, she was beautiful to him. “We can pray, Karissa. I know God will listen.”

  Instantly, her face became livid. “Where is God now?” she screamed at him. “Why isn’t He healing my baby?”

  Malcolm felt the eyes of the two other parents on them. Though the room was large and there were white curtains between the cribs, Karissa’s voice carried easily. Both averted their eyes, and one left the room with her baby. After a minute of silence, the other mother also left. “Karissa,” Malcolm began.

  “No, you listen,” she said. “You don’t understand. This is all happening because I deserve it! God is punishing me for my sins.”

  “Your sins? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  She nodded, her eyes sadly triumphant. “Oh, yes I have. I’m a murderer. I murdered my own unborn child.”

  Malcolm’s jaw dropped. “What are you saying?”

  “You heard me. I murdered—”

  “Our baby? When?” He was unable to keep the horror from his voice. Never had he felt so betrayed.

  Things abruptly grew worse.

  “Not our baby,” she said. “It happened before we met. She was a little girl too—or would have been.”

  In her simple words, a lot of things became glaringly clear—Karissa’s real reasons for leaving the Church, her strangeness of late, the odd comments, and even the nightmares she suffered.

  “No,” he muttered. He felt utterly desolate, as if his entire world had fallen in around him and he couldn’t find a safe place to set his feet. He stared in bewilderment at the woman he had thought he knew.

  Karissa hung her head. “Poor Steph is suffering because of me,” she whispered. “What kind of God would do that to a baby?”

  It was difficult for Malcolm to think about Stephanie or God at that moment. He waited for Karissa to beg for his forgiveness. Could he give it? He wasn’t sure.

  She didn’t speak again, and in her eyes Malcolm saw the guilt. He knew then that Karissa wouldn’t ask for his forgiveness, because she believed that there was none for her—not in this life or ever.

  Sudden rage blotted out all the other emotions. His wife had lied to him for ten years. And she had committed not one but both of the gravest sins anyone could ever commit. Their marriage was a mockery. Revulsion washed over his body, forcing him to take two steps back from her. “You!” His voice was brutal.

  Karissa released one hand from Stephanie’s body and brought it to her mouth, sobbing. Her eyes pleaded without words.

  Malcolm shook his head and strode from the room. Karissa—the sweet wife he’d known—was gone forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The room was strangely silent, as it had been since Malcolm had walked out on her an hour before. For the first time since Stephanie’s admission to this hospital, the other cribs were all empty. The other sick children were either in surgery or still out in the halls with their mothers. The monitors were also silent, except for the occasional beep from Steph’s machine.

  I’ve lost Malcolm, Karissa thought. Her agony over Stephanie’s condition had plummeted to new depths when Malcolm had stared at her, his burning accusation hanging in the air between them.

  “What have I done?” Her whispered words mocked her.

  The nurse came to take Steph for new X-rays, and when Karissa returned to the room she found the other parents and babies had returned. They smiled at Karissa as if nothing had happened.

  “I’m taking Randy home,” one of the mothers said. “The doctor says he’s well enough.”

  “That’s good,” Karissa responded automatically.

  Randy was soon replaced by another sick infant who coughed repeatedly. Karissa worried that her daughter would contract some new disease and wouldn’t be able to make it through her surgery. She wished she could talk to Malcolm about the possibility, but he didn’t return.

  Karissa’s mind replayed her confession and the look in Malcolm’s eyes. Did he hate her? Would he divorce her immediately?

  When she could bear no more, Brionney called. “What’s wrong?” she asked after Karissa’s sorrowful greeting.

  “Steph’s probably going to have surgery,” she said. “It’s more serious than they first thought, though the doctor insists it’s still minor surgery. I feel like I’m all alone.”

  “Where’s Malcolm?”

  “He left. I—I told him about . . . about . . . the . . .” Karissa let her voice fade away. “He’s upset.”

  “Give him time,” Brionney said. “Look, you hang on tight. I’m going to call Delinda to stay with my kids, and I’ll be right down.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Karissa murmured.

  “I want to. We’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  A short time later, Malcolm returned with Dr. Mizra. He kissed Stephanie and stroked her cheek but didn’t me
et Karissa’s eyes or greet her.

  “The X-rays prove the surgery is necessary beyond any doubt,” said Dr. Mizra. “The best way I can explain it to you is that your daughter has what is called a duodenal web that blocks the food from entering the small intestine. We’ll have to remove this web. If all goes smoothly, as I believe it will, we should have her back at home in less than a week. So what do you say?”

  Karissa glanced at Malcolm. “Okay.”

  “Yeah, go ahead,” Malcolm agreed.

  “Then I’ll have the necessary papers sent to you this evening,” said Dr. Mizra.

  “When will you do it?” Malcolm asked.

  “Dr. Schmidt has tentatively scheduled the surgery for Friday.” He smiled and left.

  Friday, thought Karissa. That means we have to wait two more days. Now that she’d agreed to the surgery, two days seemed like an eternity for Stephanie to continue her suffering.

  Karissa and Malcolm sat in silence. She wanted to reach out to him, but his angry eyes told her what he would say.

  “So what was his name?” he asked quietly.

  “Who?”

  “The father of your baby.”

  The question disconcerted her. “Tyler,” she said. “But I didn’t love him, I just thought I did. He—”

  “You loved him enough, evidently.”

  Karissa shut her eyes, fighting the tears. She deserved this. She deserved everything. “Yes,” she whispered.

  Malcolm’s face showed no pity or compassion, only hurt and betrayal. She knew he would dredge up everything now, and doing so would only make things worse between them.

  Salvation came in the form of Brionney. She walked into the room carrying a small blue and white cooler. Without permission, she boldly took Stephanie from her mother’s arms, careful of the IV and the white wires attached to her chest, and handed her to Malcolm. “Karissa and I are going somewhere,” she said firmly. “Delinda has sent along a nice dinner for you, Malcolm,” she added, kicking the cooler. She put an arm around Karissa and nearly dragged her to the door. “Let him watch Steph,” she whispered. “Whatever his feelings toward you, he’ll take care of her.”

  Karissa had just fed the sleeping baby. There was no reason for her to reject Brionney’s offer, except her continuing reluctance to leave Stephanie in anyone else’s care. “Go on,” Malcolm said, as if reading her thoughts. “Stephanie will be fine with me.”

  She decided to go. The tests were over, and there should be no more pain for Steph—not today, anyway. By leaving, she could put off Malcolm’s searing questions.

  They went to Brionney’s house, where Karissa showered, ate a good meal, and talked quietly with the children, renewing their friendship. Not owning pants of a useful size to lend Karissa, Brionney washed and dried Karissa’s clothes. Delinda arrived as the clothes were ready, carrying a rectangular package for Karissa. “June drew it from those pictures of Steph you gave us the last time we came visiting teaching,” she explained.

  Inside was another picture of Jesus, this time holding a baby that looked a lot like little Stephanie. There was a certain comfort in seeing her daughter with the Savior, but His eyes seemed to hold only reproach for Karissa.

  “Thank you,” Karissa said. She left it on the counter and promptly forgot its existence.

  Simply being with Brionney and her children eased Karissa’s sleep-deprived mind. It reminded her that in the face of all the trouble in the world, here at least was a slice of heaven on earth—albeit a noisy slice.

  “The ward is planning a fast for Friday,” Delinda said to her. “We are all praying for little Steph.”

  Karissa was touched more than she wanted to admit. Why would those people who barely knew her care so much about Stephanie? Had Malcolm made so much of an impression in the few months he’d been active?

  “I need to get back,” Karissa said, blinking away the moisture gathering in her eyes. “It’s been an hour.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to eat any more?” Brionney asked.

  Karissa smiled. “I’m already having trouble fitting into these pants, and they’re two sizes bigger than I normally wear.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Brionney said. “They hang on you.”

  Karissa looked down at the Levis she had borrowed from Malcolm, noticing with surprise that Brionney was right. When had she lost the weight? “I guess I’ve been too busy to eat.”

  “Losing the pregnancy weight. That’s one blessing in all this,” Brionney said lightly.

  “Maybe,” Karissa said, grabbing her coat from the sofa. “Come on. Steph might need me.” She dreaded going back to face Malcolm but knew she had no choice.

  “Here,” Delinda said. “I brought you something else to read. I’ve marked some really good parts.” Glancing at the Ensign magazine Delinda shoved in her hand, Karissa saw that it was an old one, the May 1992 General Conference issue. Well, maybe reading it would keep her mind from Steph’s problems.

  “Thanks so much for everything,” she said to Brionney as they got in her car. She threw her coat and purse into the empty backseat. “I really needed to get away. It feels great to be in clean clothes for a change.”

  Brionney’s blue eyes clouded, and she didn’t start the engine. “There’s something I’ve been trying to tell you,” she began.

  “What?”

  “I just wanted . . . well I thought I should warn you . . .”

  “What is it?” Karissa demanded. Whatever Brionney had to say couldn’t be worse than the nightmare she was going through with Stephanie, or the sense of impending doom she felt now that Malcolm knew her dark secret.

  “Your dad’s coming.” Brionney’s blurted it out quickly.

  Karissa stared at her as Brionney looked away.

  “I called them a few days ago,” she added. “Your parents. I know I should have asked you, but I . . . I think you need them.”

  Karissa shook her head, wondering at her friend’s audacity. “My father is the last person I need. When I called to tell them about Steph’s birth, all he wanted to know was when I was going to the temple. He as much as told me that I wasn’t really married at all, and that my daughter was practically born out of wed—”

  “Maybe it’ll be different during this crisis.” Brionney’s face pleaded for understanding. “Maybe he’ll make things easier for you. I felt the impression to call him so strongly.”

  Karissa glared. “You just don’t understand. There are three eternal facts in the universe: the earth revolves around the sun, the gospel is true, and my father is always right. Stephanie’s illness isn’t going to change anything. You shouldn’t have interfered. Stephanie is sick because I aborted my first baby. She’ suffering for my mistakes. I almost hate God for doing this to her. It’s me who should suffer, not Steph!”

  Karissa shoved open the car door and fled, leaving Brionney behind. “Wait!” her friend called, but Karissa kept on running.

  Melting snow piled about the streets, dirty now from water the cars splashed onto the sidewalks. Dirty as Karissa’s soul. Frustration, anger, and, yes, fear pulsed through her. Why? Why? Why? She wanted to shout it to the world. Why Steph? Poor, innocent Steph!

  Tears stung her face, growing cold as soon as they left her eyes. As the flare of anger left her heart, she began to shiver in her ribbed turtleneck. Though it was long-sleeved, the green fabric was thin. Her Levis already felt stiff and frigid on her legs. She thought about returning to Brionney’s to retrieve her coat and purse from the car, but she couldn’t face her friend again. Why couldn’t she mind her own business?

  Karissa glanced up and down the street, completely lost. Houses flanked the road, but they were unfamiliar. Which way to go? She had to call a taxi somehow. Steph might need her. This last thought brought a sense of panic. She waded through another slushy snowbank, grateful for the fur-lined leather boots on her feet. They kept out much of the cold, as her clothes did not.

  Everywhere she looked there were houses an
d buildings, pavement and snow-filled lawns crowding in on her and making it difficult to breathe. She longed for her house on Kodiak set among the spruce and cottonwoods, with its backdrop of rolling hills and pristine mountains. The desire surprised her so much that she stumbled and nearly fell.

  “Kar! Kar! Over here!”

  She turned to see Damon calling her from his blue Mercedes. “Damon!”

  “Hop in. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

  “Brionney sent you,” she said, and kept on walking.

  “I let Jesse off just as she was pulling out to go after you. She said you’d had a disagreement and you took off. That’s all I know. Come on, get in.” He leaned across the passenger seat and pushed open the door. With one hand on the wheel and the other trying to keep the door from closing, he looked comical.

  Karissa shook her head.

  “For crying out loud, Kar! It’s cold, and you’re not dressed for it. I have your coat here and your purse—you can’t go far without either. Now stop being difficult. You had a baby three weeks ago. Do you want to get sick? How will you help Steph then?”

  Her steps faltered and stopped. Damon braked the car and pushed the door wide open. Karissa slipped inside, relishing the heat of the interior. She rolled something in her hands and, glancing down, was surprised to see it was the Ensign Delinda had given her.

  Damon put the car in motion. “What happened?” he asked after a while.

  “Nothing.”

  “You don’t run away for nothing. What you mean is that it’s none of my business.”

  Karissa didn’t respond.

  He shrugged. “If you don’t want me to know—”

  “She called my parents. My father. He’s coming to Alaska. I don’t want him here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because . . . because . . . I don’t want to be judged by anyone else. When my father sees what a mess I’ve made of my marriage . . . my life . . .”

  Damon slowed and pulled to the curb. “I thought you and Malcolm were getting along great.” He spoke as if choosing his words carefully.

  Karissa stared at her hand, twisting the Ensign. “We were. Then this thing with Steph—” Her eyes flew to his. “Steph! I have to get back.”