By the time Emily Carter turned into the cracked driveway of her parents’ home in Dayton, Ohio, the night had already settled heavily around her. Fourteen hours under fluorescent lights at Miami Valley Hospital had left her hollowed out—machines beeping, families pleading, decisions that never felt like enough.
All she wanted was simple.
Pick up Lily. Go home. Sleep.Something inside her shifted instantly.
She stepped inside, still in her scrubs. “Mom?”
Patricia stood rigid in the living room. Ronald hovered near the fireplace. From the hallway came the sharp, deliberate sound of drawers opening and closing.
