My husband and my sister laughed while my daughter Holly was dying in a hospital bed. Then he smirked and said, “Holly had a good run. We need that money for my son with your sister.”

move quickly.”

My throat tightened. “Quickly may not be enough.”

Dr. Patel entered then, still wearing his white coat even though his shift had ended hours earlier. He looked exhausted, but his voice had the steadiness I needed to hold on to.

“I spoke with Boston,” he said. “They will review Holly’s file tonight. The trust can cover transport. If her continue reading …