Emily moved quietly around the kitchen, the last of the evening light slipping through the windows as the sun finally disappeared. She packed the food carefully into disposable foil plates, making sure everything was neat and well covered. The spaghetti sat warm and rich in sauce, the crumb bread wrapped snugly beside it. After a moment of thought, she added ice cream into a cooler pack, along with small chocolate sweets and a few soft cakes. Lawson would like those. Children always did.
She paused, then folded her blanket and added it to the pile. The hospital had been unbearably cold the night before, and she did not want to shiver through another sleepless night. This time, she dressed for comfort. She pulled on loose long pants and a soft, oversized polo shirt. It was Ethan’s. The fab
