The waiting room had never felt so hushed, so weighted with unspoken prayers. Alliah sat quietly, her hands folded on her lap, her eyes trained on the floor as though the sterile white tiles might yield some kind of comfort. Beside her, Jamiro squeezed her hand, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles in a rhythm only she could feel. Joshua leaned against his mother’s shoulder, his small frame curled into her as though to shield her from the unknown.
The doctor’s office door creaked open. “Mrs. Torralba?” the nurse called gently.
Alliah inhaled slowly, feeling her chest tighten with that all-too-familiar mixture of dread and anticipation. Jamiro helped her to her feet, steadying her as though his touch alone could keep her from faltering. Together with Joshua, they walked toward the offic
