June opened her dark eyes, gave a small yawny sigh, and settled her chin into the crook of his shoulder.

“Dinner is in forty minutes,” Ethan said, stepping toward the stove to ignite the gas burner under a pot of water.

“I bought fresh green beans and chicken.”

I stepped back into the dining room and looked at the side of our stainless steel refrigerator.

Pinned beneath a bright yellow disc magnet was our handwritten weekly care schedule, covered in Ethan’s neat script for every day of the week.

Beside it sat June’s official hospital discharge slip, stamped with Dr.