Lewis

Later that week…

I lay a sleeping Ian in the crib for his nap then follow Ryan’s voice to the kitchen. She leans her hips against the kitchen island, her back to me, phone in hand at her ear.

“No. Still the same,” she answers into the receiver. “We’ll continue with the same treatments, hoping for a miracle.”

I sense the oppressive fear in her voice even though she’s trying to sound positive to the caller.

“I will, Linda. Now, go play ...