The house was quiet when I got home, too quiet. The kind of silence that pressed against my ears and made every thought echo louder than it should. I slipped off my shoes at the door, my movements slow and mechanical, as if my body was moving on instinct alone while my mind lagged several steps behind, still trapped in the sterile halls of the hospital and the weight of everything I had lost.

“Mommy?”

Marga’s small voice came from the living room.

I looked up and saw her sitting on the ...