“Is that what you did?”

“No,” Corinne admits. “I was called for an emergency C-section for one of my other patients. Our charge nurse, Marie, accompanied me to the OR, which is her job. That meant Ruth was the only nurse left on the floor. So I grabbed her and asked her to watch over Davis.” She hesitates. “You have to understand, we’re a tiny hospital. We have a skeletal staff. And when a medical emergency happens, decisions are made quickly.”

Beside me, Howard scribbles a note.

“A stat C-section takes twenty minutes, tops. I assumed I’d be back in that nursery before the infant even woke up.”

“Did you have any concern about leaving Davis in Ruth’s care?”

“No,” she says firmly. “Ruth’s the best nurse I’ve ever met.”

“How long were you gone?” Odette asks.

“Too long,” Corinne says softly. “By the time I got back, the baby was dead.”

The prosecutor turns to Kennedy. “Your witness.”

Kennedy smiles at Corinne as she walks toward the witness stand. “You say you worked with Ruth for seven years. Would you consider yourself friends?”

Corinne’s eyes dart to me. “Yes.”

“Have you ever doubted her commitment to her career?”

“No. She has pretty much been a role model for me.”

“Were you in the nursery for any of the time that a medical intervention was taking place with Davis Bauer?”

“No,” Corinne says. “I was with my other patient.”

“So you didn’t see Ruth take action.”

“No.”

“And,” Kennedy adds, “you didn’t see Ruth not take action.”

“No.”

She holds up the piece of paper Howard has passed to her. “You stated, and I quote, When a medical emergency happens, decisions are made quickly. Do you remember saying that?”

“Yes…”

“Your stat C-section was a medical emergency, right?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t you also say that a newborn suffering a respiratory seizure qualifies as a medical emergency?”

“Um, yes, of course.”

“Were you aware that there was a note in the file that said Ruth was not to care for this baby?”

“Objection!” Odette says. “That’s not what the note said.”

“Sustained,” the judge pronounces. “Ms. McQuarrie, rephrase.”

“Were you aware that there was a note in the file that said no African American personnel could care for the baby?”

“Yes.”

“How many Black nurses work in your department?”

“Just Ruth.”

“Were you aware when you grabbed Ruth to fill in for you that the baby’s parents had expressed the desire to prohibit her from caring for their newborn?”

Corinne shifts on the wooden seat. “I didn’t think anything was going to happen. The baby was fine when I left.”

“The whole reason for monitoring a baby for ninety minutes after a circumcision is because with neonates, things can change on a dime, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.”

“And the fact is, Corinne, you left that baby with a nurse who was forbidden from ministering to him, correct?”

“I had no other choice,” Corinne says, defensive.

“But you did leave that infant in Ruth’s care?”

“Yes.”

“And you did know that she wasn’t supposed to touch that baby?”

“Yes.”

“So you screwed up, essentially, two times over?”

“Well—”

“Funny,” Kennedy interrupts. “No one accused you of killing that baby.”

—

LAST NIGHT, I dreamed about Mama’s funeral. The pews were full, and it wasn’t winter, but summer. In spite of the air-conditioning and people waving fans and programs, we were all slick with sweat. The church wasn’t a church but a warehouse that looked like it had been repurposed after a fire. The cross behind the altar was made of two charred beams fitted together like a puzzle.

I was trying to cry, but I didn’t have any tears left. All the moisture in my body had become perspiration. I tried to fan myself, but I didn’t have a program.

Then the person sitting beside me handed me one. “Take mine,” she said.

I looked over to say thank you, and realized Mama was in the chair next to me.

Speechless, I staggered to my feet.

I peered into the coffin, to see who—instead—was inside.

It was full of dead babies.

—

MARIE WAS HIRED ten years after I was. Back then she was an L & D nurse, just like me. We suffered through double shifts and complained about the lousy benefits and survived the remodeling of the hospital. When the charge nurse retired, Marie and I both threw our names into the ring. When HR went with Marie, she came to me, devastated. She said that she was hoping I’d get the job, just so she didn’t have to apologize for being the one who was chosen. But really, I was okay with it. I had Edison to watch after, in the first place. And being charge nurse meant a lot more administrative work and less hands-on with patients. As I watched Marie settle into her new role, I thanked my lucky stars that it had worked out the way it had.

“The baby’s father, Turk Bauer, had asked to speak to a supervisor,” Marie says, replying to the prosecutor. “He had a concern about the care of his infant.”