Our heads bump as we both kneel to pick up the broken pieces. As I stare at the shards of ceramic littering the floor, tears well up in my eyes. I’ve tried to be strong in front of Chase, but the truth is, I’m cracking on the inside.

“I’m sorry,” we both say at the same time.

I give him my best smile, which is brittle.

“She’s going to be fine.” My determination fuels my words, but isn’t a reflection of the fear inside me.

“Can you be sure?”

“I can’t be sure of anything.”

“Does cancer run in your family?” The reminder that I’m adopted flattens any pretense of a smile. “Shit, I’m sorry.” His hands rub at his eyes. He must be every bit as weary as I am.

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s a valid question. Just one I can’t answer. And believe me, I’ve been thinking a lot more about who my parents are than ever before.”

He cups my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “We’ll get through this … together.”

Before I know what I’m doing, I lean in, needing his warmth more than ever. Our lips collide and the softness of his has me sighing inside. His tongue sweeps over mine and the power of his kiss is the balm I need.

“Mama.”

I pull back to see Violet standing there. Her flushed skin and tired eyes send panic through me. Since I’m on my knees already, I crawl over to her and place a hand over her feverish head.

“Feel bad,” she adds.

On instinct, I scoop her up in my arms just before she throws up all over my shirt. I rush into one of the palatial bathrooms and make it to the toilet just before she vomits again.

When I’m pretty sure we are in the clear, I take off her soiled clothes and my shirt. I turn on the water and get a cool cloth to clean her off.

“Do you feel better?”

She shakes her head. I’d been expecting that answer, but hoped that maybe I was wrong.

Chase stands in the doorway wearing a lost expression.

“How can I help?”

“Can you get her some clean clothes while I go get the Tylenol to bring down the fever?”

He nods. “Should we call the doctor?”

“Yes, let’s get,” I nod to Violet, “taken care of first.”

I dash out of my room in my bra, but not caring. I wash my hands and get the correct dose before going back to our daughter. I find her in her room with a smile on her face. Chase sports a goofy expression that has her captivated.

Though I hate to break them up, I want to get the medication in her so it can start working.

“Here, why don’t you get this to Violet and I’ll make the call?”

His eyes look up at me. I mouth, you’re doing great.

I leave them and go in my room. Closing the door, I make the call. They can see her at two in the afternoon. Chase nearly goes ballistic when I tell him.

“Calm down. If she has strep, they’ll run a rapid test and we’ll know right away. It’s fine. You have practice this morning anyway. You can go, then come back, and pick us up.”

After he calms down, he sees the logic in what I say.

That afternoon, we are headed to the doctor to have him run tests.

Violet babbles to Chase while we sit in the waiting room. She points to pictures as he makes the sounds of the animal to make her giggle. The medicine I dosed her with has her feeling better, but I know something is brewing inside her.

“Violet Wilde James.”

I stand and Violet reaches out to me. I pick her up as we are herded into a room. When the doctor comes in, Chase is first to speak.

“What’s wrong with my daughter?”

I jump in and give him a rundown of her symptoms, including the fever, tiredness, and vomiting.

His English is perfect. “It could be a number of things, maybe the flu or strep. We can run a couple of tests.”

“What about her fevers? They’ve been happening too often to be random.”

“As we discussed, it could be the normal. Your daughter is very young. She’s in a new place and exposed to different germs.” When I start to cut in, he adds, “Or it could be an autoimmune disease.”

“What about leukemia?” Chase asks.

“That could be a possibility, but let’s not go down that road yet. I want to run some blood tests before we start jumping to conclusions. However, my nurse will be back in to do the rapid strep and influenza test. And she will take a blood sample as well.”

Chase looks as though he has a million questions. I reach out and take his hand. When he glances over, I squeeze our joined hands.

Violet, sensing Chase’s distress, crawls between us onto his lap. She wraps her tiny arms around his neck.

“’K, Dada.” She gives him a kiss on the cheek.

Violet does well for the strep test, which the nurse explains as a little tickle on the back of the throat. The flu test is a little easier up her nose. But it’s the blood sample that makes our daughter cry out and cause Chase to give the nurse a dirty look.

“It’s her job,” I whisper while rubbing soothing circles on Violet’s back to calm her down after the nurse leaves.

“She could be a better one,” Chase grumbles.

“There is only so much she can do. I’m a nurse and sometimes babies cry after the things I have to do. Does that make me a bad nurse?”

He shakes his head. “It’s just, she’s my—”

“—Daughter, and you want to protect her.”

He nods. Thankfully, it’s only been about five minutes when the doc comes in and tells us the bad news.

“The strep test came back positive. I’ll prescribe her a course of antibiotics.”

“What about the flu test?”

“It takes a little longer. It’s doubtful she’d test positive for both. Even still, there aren’t antibiotics for the flu. If for some odd reason it does come back, I can call in an antiviral for you.”

Chase isn’t mollified. “You’re still going to run other blood tests?”

“Yes. I’ll give you a call with the results.”

When the doctor glances at me, I nod and he leaves. Once we get home, Chase carries our sleeping daughter to her room. I wait in the living room.

“Do you think that’s it?”

As much as I want to say yes, I can’t.

“I don’t know. But once the CBC panel comes back, we’ll know a lot more,” I say.

“What’s a CBC?”

“The blood test the doc ran.”

“Oh, yeah. What will it tell us?”

“A lot, actually. It will help him diagnose conditions, such as anemia, or infections. It can also indicate whether she has leukemia, an autoimmune issue, and many other disorders. But then they will have to run more in-depth tests to determine exactly what’s going on.”

“Why can’t he run them all now? I can pay for it.”

I reach out and lay my hand on his arm.

“I know you can. But they probably follow a diagnostic protocol here. You know, look for the most common things first and then if they come back negative, they keep searching for answers.”

He runs a rough hand through his hair.

“It’s just that I want to know. I don’t think I’ll get a good night’s sleep until I know she’s okay.”

I wrap my arms around him and he pulls me in tighter. I glance up at him.

“She needs you not to be tired. So why don’t you get some sleep? I’m not sure how things work over here in Italy. It might be another day or two before we hear anything back.”

When I step out of his embrace, he takes my wrist and pulls me back.

“Thank you,” he says.

“For what?”

“For being a great mother.”

I give him my best smile before walking away. It’s as if I can feel his eyes on my back. Selfishly, I want him to call me again. I need a distraction. I need him: his touch, his kiss, his mouth devouring mine. But when I make it to my door, I resolve to spend a restless night alone.