2 septembre 2026

I WAS CHOPPING VEGETABLES IN THE KITCHEN WHEN MY 4-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER PULLED ON MY ARM, HER FACE FILLED WITH FEAR AND WORRY. « MOMMY… CAN I STOP TAKING THE PILLS GRANDMA GIVES ME EVERY DAY? »

Diane’s message sat there unfinished.

« Did Emma tell you about our little secret, or should I… »

Or should I what?

My stomach twisted.

Across from me, Emma hugged her stuffed rabbit tighter.

Dr. Stevens was still staring at the prescription bottle.

I handed him my phone without a word.

He read the message.

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