*Kiera*
I blow another stream of bubbles, watching them dance in the air before they pop with a soft, satisfying ‘plop’. Frida giggles, her laughter ringing through the sterile hospital room, and the sound is like music to my ears. She reaches out, her little hand gripping a plastic wand, the other arm in a bright purple cast, and she swishes it through the air with the determination of a magician. Each bubble that bursts sends her into fits of glee… the lightness of it all feels almost surreal in this place filled with so much pain and uncertainty.
“Look, Uncle Will!” she calls, her voice bright and insistent as she pops another bubble. “Did you see that one? It was huge!”
I glance over at Will, who is sitting in the corner, cradling a steaming cup of coffee. He looks up from his drink
