Stories, health tips, and curious facts made simple.
I set down the shirt I was holding.
“Della.”
She sighed like an exhausted grandmother trapped inside an eight-year-old body.
“Nobody dies from skipping canned peaches.”
“Why are you saving lunch money, monkey?”
She hugged the tin tightly.
“I have a project. A hospital boy.”
The hospital was two blocks from her school. Della walked with the Keene children and Mrs. Keene, who crossed them safely at the intersection.
Even so, my chest tightened.
“What hospital boy?”
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