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Nate
Nova was fussing about everything.
She didn’t want her food. Everything I put on her tray, she flung at the wall. The stuff that didn’t get immediately flung got shoved to the floor. Then she’d go back to fussing.
I tried singing.
I tried dancing.
I did the food airplane.
I gave her a bottle. That got thrown at a wall, and note to self: my girl might be an athlete.
I checked her temp. She was fine.
I checked her ears. They looked good, but maybe it was still them?
I had a pounding headache.
I knew Quincey wasn’t still going to the bathroom. My luck, I’d f****d things up again with her.
My phone was buzzing and ringing all at the same time, and I didn’t know that was possible.
“Ahhhh!” Now Nova was screaming and banging. The fork got thrown, and her head went backward.
