The nurse tapes a paper snowflake to my curtain and calls it “seasonal cheer.” Emma holds it up to the light and asks why the holes make it pretty. I tell her that’s how light works: it proves itself in the spaces. She nods like a scientist and goes back to coloring a dress she insists should be “extra sparkly,” because Aunt Madison promised she could carry flowers. I press send on a photo of her smile. The reply is a heart and a line about how “everything must be perfect today.” I decide to tak