Where's Mommy

In a fit of boldness, he scrambled out back to bury whatever was left of her, that woman who’d plagued his life. Only her wardrobe, but still, it felt good.

A tiny voice surprised him: his daughter. “Where’s mommy?”

All week she’d been asking. Cringing, he covered the last dress with dirt. “Please, not again.”

“Where’s mommy?” This time, she threatened to cry.

Pain flared in his chest. He dropped the shovel and knelt beside her. She hugged him hard.

“I miss mommy.”

He kissed her forehead. Tears made him quaver. “Mommy’s still here. Just please… call me daddy now.”