The words couldn’t for together in a single sentence to tell her anything. Looking at her now I noticed she held the colors of autumn in her eyes. The color of freshly fallen leaves and warm honey mixed together around her iris. She continued to look at my for an answer. Any answer. No words escaped my lips. “Can we visit grandma? After we leave here?”, She had to pause between her words as she continued to try and breath, “we always visit her in the summer.” My heart clenched, as all I could do was nod my head. Trying to hold her small, fragile body closer to mine, to heart her faint breathing. Gently, I kissed the top of her head. I didn’t have the heart or ability to tell her that she would never see summer again; that her skin would never feel the warmth of the sun...it has always been her favorite season. She would spend hours baking in the light of the sun, as the summer breeze kissed her curls. Her naked feet padding against the soft green grass without the care or worry of getting too dirty, as she tried to catch tadpoles in the nearby creek. “Tell me a story, please.” I held her tightly as her doe-like eyes stared into mine. My breath escaped me. The little girl in my arms, filled with innocence and love, was too young. The little girl in my arms, is my child. My