“I am going to do every single thing you asked.”

“Prove it,” I said.

I turned toward the staircase, leaving him sitting alone on the edge of the couch with the pen in his hand, writing his name next to the 8:00 AM medication slot in June’s logbook.

He capped the blue pen and set it down next to the written medication care logbook on the kitchen counter.

The digital clock over the stove clicked to 7:55 AM.

I rocked June gently in the wooden kitchen armchair, holding her small body wrapped tightly in her yellow fleece blanket.