The soft crying dampens her haughty tone and fiery rasp through her voice as her gentle tiny fingers cup mine, and I can smell her sweet perfume. The aroma sliding up my nostrils, trying to awaken all my senses.

“Move over, Leila, let me in…. Emma, it’s Sarah, honey. Listen to me. They said if we talk to you that you know … Maybe you’ll hear us. We love you. We are all right here with you.” There’s sniffling, and the shifting of bodies as the skin on my arm tingles with ...