“Amber’s condition is having an effect on Alice,” Mom told me. “I’m worried about her. She’s worn down by it all. Julian, you must try to lift her spirits. She’s too young for all of this. Little girls should be happy.”
I was a terrible father. I had been so worried about Amber waking up that I hadn’t considered Alice’s mental health. She was alive and physically healthy, which had been enough during the crisis for me not to worry about her.
But now that there was a calm, and that Mom had pointed it out to me, I could see the way Alice’s shoulders slumped downward, and the way her eyes were red and tired from all the tears she had shed.
If I was worried about Amber, then Alice must have been too, no matter how hard I tried to shield her from it.
She had been there, too. Alice had witne
