caught up with me.
Kora was diagnosed with acute lymphoplastic leukemia when she was seven. We had already survived the long first fight: spinal taps, steroid weeks, hospital stays, and days when she screamed at me for cutting her toast wrong.
Then she went into remission and gave us almost a whole year that felt normal.
She turned nine in March.
In April, the blood work came back wrong again.
The oncologist used the word relapse, then wrapped softer language around it. But I had written enough medical copy to
