Oh Appomattax, This Antidote is Our Undoing #8 by Quintan Ana Wikswo

The husband come along in April to retrieve his wife, her skin plumped out and pinker now, a ripe shine to her eyes and no grey lichen sucking at her features. He still very much in love. Maw found the two of them together in the washroom, Claudine pressed against the old zinc tub with her ruby-centered breasts exposed and sparkling in the sunlight. Another baby would come to pass, Claudine was sure of it. She had two small pearl earrings now, a gift from her husband. To Maw they looked like eyes without pupils staring back, triumphant, at her. We will watch over her now, they said blindly, we do not need you any longer.