I got older. I moved into my own place. I changed jobs. I made new friends.
Eventually, I learned how to talk about Emily without falling apart every time.
Then one Tuesday afternoon, my phone rang.
I almost didn’t answer.
“Is this Rachel?”
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I got older. I moved into my own place. I changed jobs. I made new friends.
Eventually, I learned how to talk about Emily without falling apart every time.
Then one Tuesday afternoon, my phone rang.
I almost didn’t answer.
“Is this Rachel?”
The fluorescent, tube style lighting of the pediatric clinic staff pantry hummed a dull, monotonous, vibrating tune. It was a frequency that usually faded…