She awoke wrapped in Kyle's arms. Soft warmth against her skin. But as the light of waking lifted the veil of sleep, his arms melted into the twisted sweat soaked sheets.
The kitchen table held no answers. The carton kid stared at her. Accusations unspoken, fear remaining.
Her child, children, came into the room. She had lied to the doctor, would not lie to them.
She looked at them, and in that moment she saw the future, and her sorrow drew tears from her eyes, like the leaves from an autumn tree, pulled away by the first frosts of winter.