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

nothing.

But Emma smiles when she hears it.

She drinks two sips, then settles back against the pillow.

Her bunny is tucked under one arm. Her curls spread across the white sheet. The monitor keeps beeping, steady and stubborn.

I sit beside her and listen to that sound.

Not silence.

Not calm.

Life.

Emma’s fingers twitch in mine, and in her sleep, my daughter continue reading …