A thing for fire
GENEVIEVE The hospital smelled like antiseptic and lavender fabric softener. A strange, sterile mix of peace and panic. Leo waited in the car while I made my way inside, flowers in one hand, a pink teddy bear tucked under my arm. I didn’t bring a card—I wasn’t sure words could capture what I needed to say. I paused outside Brianna’s room, heart pounding. The last time I stood here, I was a wreck. Grief-stricken. Numb. Detached. This time, I felt different. Still broken in places, yes. But mending. I knocked gently and pushed the door open. She looked up, her hair a frizzy halo around her face, eyes tired but glowing. Baby Nia was curled in her arms, a tiny bundle wrapped in pastel pink. Brianna’s face lit up when she saw me. “You came.” I smiled, already tearing up. “Of course I di
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