different when they begin.
There was no ominous weather.
No strange feeling.
No warning.
Just breakfast.
Lunch boxes.
The twins arguing about who should sit in the front seat even though they were five years old and neither of them was allowed to.
Emily said her head hurt.
I gave her children’s medicine.
Then I sent both girls to school.
At 11:30, the school called.
Emily had collapsed in class.
The hours after that exist in my memory only as fragments.
Driving.
The hospital.
Fluorescent lights.
The smell of
