I took my niece to the hospital behind my sister-in-law’s back. The doctor’s face went cold, and everything changed in seconds. Hi, I’m Avery.
Growing up with a brother like Max meant always having someone to look up to. He was the golden child—smart, successful, impossibly generous. So when he married Cassandra nine years ago, I expected someone equally wonderful.
But sometimes first impressions can be devastatingly wrong. “Avery, thanks for coming over on such short notice,” Max said, pulling me into a quick hug as I stepped into his beautiful colonial-style home in Maybrook. “The investor call can’t be rescheduled, and Cassandra has her pottery class.”
“No problem at all.
Where’s my favorite niece?” I asked, setting my bag down on the granite kitchen counter. “Ruby’s upstairs in her room. She hasn’t been feeling great today.
But Cassandra says it’s just a bug going around Pinewood Elementary.”
I frowned slightly. “Didn’t she just recover from something last month?”
Max shrugged, checking his Rolex. “Kids, right?
Always catching something. There’s chicken noodle soup in the fridge if she gets hungry. Cassandra says no snacks before dinner, though.”
“Got it.
Go nail your pitch. I’ve got this.”
After Max left in his Tesla, I headed upstairs to check on Ruby. At eight years old, she was usually a whirlwind of energy, but lately something seemed deeply wrong.
I knocked gently on her door. “Aunt Avery,” came a weak voice. I stepped inside to find Ruby curled up in bed, her face ghostly pale, her normally sparkling hazel eyes dull and sunken.
The room smelled stale, medicinal. “Hey, sweetheart. Your dad said you’re not feeling too good.”
“My stomach hurts again,” she whispered, clutching her favorite stuffed unicorn.
“And I’m so, so tired.”
I sat beside her, brushing her honey-blonde hair back to feel her forehead. She was warm—not alarmingly so, but enough to notice. Her skin felt clammy.
“Have you told your mom about your stomach hurting?”
Ruby nodded, her eyes dropping to the bedspread. “She says I’m just being overdramatic. That I need to toughen up and stop complaining.”
A chill ran down my spine.
As a registered nurse at Riverside Medical Center, I’d learned to trust my instincts about sick children. Something about this felt very wrong. “Does your stomach hurt a lot, Ruby?
