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and burying her face in the space
     between Joy’s pudgy cheek and lower neck.
    Joy squealed with delight at each nibbling attack. Angie let herself enjoy a somewhat delirious laugh.
    As they approached the nursery, Angie noticed the baby’s cry calming into a whimper, then a contented coo. Mysteriously, Tommy’s
     presence had soothed little Leah’s bouncing-cup-induced trauma. She stood in the doorway and quietly watched as big brother gently caressed baby sister’s cheek with the back of
     his hand, while baby sister curled her tiny fist around big brother’s index finger.
    The phone rang.
    “I only know one person who would call us at nine thirty in the morning!” Angie exclaimed. “I bet it’s your daddy!”
    Midway down the stairs Angie realized her mistake as she heard the digital butler announce, “Call from Dr. Martha Chapman,
     pediatrician.”
    “Oh no!”
    Between the chaos of life without Kevin and the exhaustion of sleepless nights, Angie had completely forgotten about the nine
     a.m. appointment. Not good, considering the doctor’s long scheduling backlog.
    “Ms. Tolbert?” came the office assistant’s voice.
    “I’m so sorry,” Angie began. “I bet you called to say I missed Leah’s appointment.”
    “No, ma’am. Your appointment is tomorrow.”
    Angie sighed in relief.
    “I was actually calling to confirm whether you and Mr. Tolbert can attend together.”
    Angie felt a rush of fear. No pediatrician had ever asked whether Kevin could join a child’s appointment before.
    “My husband will be out of town tomorrow. But I’ll be—”
    “Ms. Tolbert,” the nameless voice interrupted. “Dr. Chapman thinks it would be best if you both attend.”
    “Is something wrong with Leah?”
    “I can’t discuss particulars over the phone, Ms. Tolbert.”
    “ Mrs. Tolbert,” Angie corrected.
    “Yes, ma’am. Dr. Chapman just wants to walk you through the results of the baby’s genome sequencing.”
    “We received summaries for both Tommy and Joy in our message box. Why can’t you do the same with Leah’s results?”
    “When parents opt out of prescreening the doctor is required—”
    “I know what the law requires.” Angie surprised herself with her intensity. “We’ve expected a genetic sequence overview. But
     why do we need a face-to-face appointment? Is something wrong with our daughter?”
    Several possibilities raced through her mind.
    Asthma?
    Diabetes?
    “Please, can you tell me anything?” Angie pleaded.
    Leukemia?
    Bone cancer?
    “Mrs. Tolbert, when is the soonest the doctor can meet with you and Mr. Tolbert together?”

Chapter Five
    The office looked not at all as Julia had imagined. The desk held no stack of confidential patient files. Beautiful paintings hung where
     she had envisioned tacky posters of cats playfully depicting overused feel-good sentiments. The window blinds were open to
     invite sunlit warmth rather than closed to conceal embarrassing confessions. Even Dr. Linda Moreland fell short of the stereotype,
     comfortably crossing her legs while stealing a sip of Earl Grey tea, her eyes fixed on Julia rather than staring at a notepad
     in detached scrutiny.
    Julia had convinced herself to schedule one appointment with Maria’s therapist as a favor to her sister. I don’t need some mushy-headed psychologist probing my mind for clues explaining insomnia . To her surprise, Dr. Moreland neither looked nor sounded mushy. She seemed formidable, like a dear friend who cared too
     much to cut her any slack.
    “So you’ve had this same dream for seven months,” the invasion began. “Every night?”
    “Only recently. When they started in the summer they came once every few weeks. But they gradually became more frequent.”
    “Anything unique about that time frame?”
    “Not that I remember.” Julia paused, reluctant to lower her guard any further. “I was hoping you could prescribe something
     to relax my mind at night. I’m sure this is all