Freya

Abby’s mother stepped out of the main house before anyone called for her.

“Abby,” she called out, hugging her daughter. I could tell she knew Abby had lost something important to her.

Abby hugged her mother tightly, tears flowing. “We can talk about me later,” she whispered. “We got the flower, and Anna needs us.”

She looked closely at our faces. “Come inside.”

We followed. We went to the ward Anna was in, everyone looking tired and worried.

“The making of the ...