Brooklyn stopped tugging on her blanket and stared at my face.

She backed up two quick steps until her heels hit the base of the sofa bed.

“Mommy, is your belly going to pop open again?” she asked.

“No, Brooklyn,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could.

“The doctor closed it up with strong thread.”

She didn’t come any closer to the bed.

She pulled the edge of her pink blanket tight between both fists.

“Grandma said you were broken.”