Behind her, my younger sister Audrey leaned against the doorframe with a glass of wine in one hand.
Audrey looked bored.
That was what scared me most.
Not guilty.
Not shocked.
Bored.
“What happened?” I asked.
My mother folded her arms.
“She needed discipline.”
Sophia flinched.
My eyes went to the crib.
Leo lay under a thin blanket, face flushed, lips dry, little fists curled against his chest. I touched his forehead with the back of my fingers.
Burning.
Not warm.
Burning.
“How long has he had a fever?” I asked.
Sophia opened her mouth.
My mother answered first.
“Since yesterday.”
“Yesterday?”
“She was making a scene about it.”
Sophia’s hand closed around my sleeve.
“His temperature was 104. I tried to call the doctor. They took my phone. They wouldn’t let me leave.”
Audrey gave a soft laugh.
“Oh, please. She panics if he sneezes.”
I did not look at Audrey.
