Her eyes had huge dark circles beneath them, and her hands were visibly trembling when she held them out to David, who almost leaped into her arms, snuggling his face into her shoulder. He strung together a series of words, indecipherable except for Mama. Hailey held out the bottle of apple juice and the tray with his uneaten cereal and fruit. “See if you can get him to eat and drink something,” she snapped. “He needs nourishment.” “What’s wrong with him? What are these red spots?” “The doctor thinks maybe an allergy.” “He’s never had any allergies.” Shannon offered the bottle to David and he took it and began to swallow in great gulps. His eyelids fluttered and closed, and he knotted one plump fist in Shannon’s T-shirt. Hailey went to the nurses’ lounge. She made toast and ate a slice, but her stomach was roiling. When she returned to David’s room, he was asleep in his crib and Shannon was sitting in a chair, one leg drawn up beneath her, a paperback novel in her hand.
