I was chopping vegetables when my four-year-old daughter

“Let me speak with them first.”

“No. If she talks first, she wins.”

The doctor looks at me.

I do not look away.

At last, he nods.

“Then we go together.”

I lift Emma into my arms. She is heavier than usual, limp with exhaustion. Her bunny hangs from one fist.

The nurse walks beside us.

We step into the hallway, and Diane sees us immediately.

She sits in a chair continue reading …