ngers clenching on the edge of the counter while she stared down at the stack of medical bills. They seemed to breed overnight, ea

lled out from the living room

aside and grabbed a glass of

blanket on the couch; a mop of wet dark curls-framed perspiration that dotted his forehead-his pale complexion serving

, making sure it was fitted on prop

said, without

y a few more minutes with this thin

ight

ange and red danced vibrantly across the page, as if mocking her-the stark contrast to gray, her reality. Painting ha

embered when Lucas was still attending school. He had loved his kindergarten cla

health had worsened, and his teachers

heir meetings. "I understand how much Lucas loves being here, but we have

own, she had known it was true, but hearing i

om, with flashcards taped to the walls and stacks of books crowding the already-limited counter space. Elena h

s-many days-when i

it," Mia had said one evening

etched in her eyes. "I don't ha

?" Mia had asked as her e

was, Elena depended on nobody

lunged her brush into vibrant blue and dragged it across the canvas with a huge stroke. With every stroke, there

om

s standing in the doorwa

asked, setting the brush imme

am," he mumbled,

into her arms, carrying him to h

whispered, cuddling in closer in

ir, whispering soothing words. "I'm alw

de, watching his small chest rise and fall. Momen

while working, trying to focus on the little things that brought him joy. When he finally

is voice stronger than it

sat across from him sippin

st, her phone buzzed. I

up? Let me know if

t didn't respond. Mia had a family to look aft

th problems and read a storybook about a boy who wanted to fly to the moon. Lucas's imagi

tucked up close, Elena went back to painting. She tried to get herself consumed by colors, but

tions he had asked-her mind kept replaying his memory, and she had thought she coul

red something in her, something she wasn't quite ready to face. She had buil

etermination washed over her. No matter what happened nex