A week later, the sky outside Emma's hospital window was clear and bright.
Sunlight spilled across the bed, turning the white sheets almost gold. Emma sat cross-legged on the mattress, a blanket over her lap and the stuffed bear in her arms. The scar on her chest was still red, but her cheeks had color now. When she laughed, it didn't turn into a cough.
“Again!" she demanded. “Higher!"
Emerie rolled her eyes and tossed a small foam ball toward her. “If I throw it any higher, it'll hit the ceiling," she said. “And then the nurse will come in and ban us from fun forever."
Emma caught the ball with both hands, giggling. “Then Daddy will buy a bigger room," she announced. “With a taller ceiling."
“Daddy," Emerie repeated dryly. “Is that what he promised you?"
“He said he can do anything,
