Andera's pov

The airport medical center was a blur of white coats, beeping machines, and antiseptic smells. In the doorway, Rosa talked with the doctor. Their voices were quiet, but I couldn't hear what they were saying; I was too focused on Tiffany. Her tired eyes, pale cheeks, and faint sighs.

I stroked her hair, wondering how things got so bad, so fast. The plan was working out; we were supposed to be on our flight, and she was supposed to be bickering with Timmy over pets and games, but here we were. My heart twisted in my chest as another fat tear drop rolled down my eye.

“Mommy?” Tiffany's...