Violetta Craft's Arc

Chapter 27 of 65

By morning, Elowen's numbers had not come down. Violetta sat in the chair by the crib with a tote bag at her feet. Inside were the lining pieces for the purple dress, a spool of thread, and a small pair of scissors. She had told herself she would stitch quietly while Elowen slept. She had told herself the ten-month deadline still counted. She reached into the bag and pulled out the folded lining. A nurse walked in to check the cannula and stopped at the rail. She pointed at the fabric and shook her head. No thread, no fabric, no loose fibers in the step-down unit. Respiratory patients only. She said it kindly, but she waited until Violetta pushed the lining back into the bag and set the bag under the chair. Jordie came in at ten with two cups of coffee and found Violetta staring at the monitor. She told him what the nurse had said. Then she told him the rest. Senior year was the showcase that mattered. The one the scouts came to. The one that led to school placements and studio jobs. She had eight months left, not ten, if you counted the weeks she was losing now. She could not sew here. She could not sew at home with the dust. She could barely stand at the studio table for an hour before her phone buzzed with a fever check or a feeding question. She said maybe she should pull out. Let the seniors have it. Try again some other way, later, if there was a later. Jordie set the coffee down. He did not argue. He looked at Elowen in the crib, then at Violetta, and said whatever she decided, he would back it. He said the dress was hers to keep or drop. Elowen was theirs either way. Violetta watched the oxygen number climb one point and hold. She thought about the judge who told her to pick one clear idea and cut the rest. She picked up her phone and emailed the showcase coordinator. She wrote that she was withdrawing her intent-to-enter for the senior competition and would reapply next cycle if a slot opened. She hit send before she could soften it. Then she pulled the tote bag out from under the chair, walked it down the hall to the family locker the clinic kept for parents, and pushed it inside. She came back with empty hands. She sat down, put her thumb through the rail, and waited for the next set of numbers.