The Christmas Cure «90% Direct»

Elias tried to decline, but the earnestness in her eyes stopped him. He tucked the bird into his lab coat pocket.

Elias felt the weight of the glass bird in his pocket. He didn’t reach for a flashlight first; he reached for the ornament. As he pulled it out, a stray beam of emergency light hit the glass, fracturing into a hundred tiny rainbows across the darkened hallway. The Christmas Cure

“Why aren’t you home?” Clara asked, her voice a thin paper-cut of a sound. Elias tried to decline, but the earnestness in

“I am home,” Elias replied, checking her vitals. “The hospital is where I belong.” Elias tried to decline