  &quot;I don&quot;t want to wear that.&quot; Sophia gives me pre-schooler side-eye, then runs across the room toward her toys. I sit back on my heels, the dress clutched in my hands, and wish for caffeine. I offered to take my half sister to daycare today before starting on my work, but it&quot;s proving harder than expected. I scan her room, looking at the white furniture, the rainbow bedspread, the corner box of toys and puzzles where she&quot;s currently pulling things out, one after another. &quot;Hey, let&quot;s play a game,&quot; I decide. &quot;If you can pick out all your school things, I&quot;ll sing you a song in the car.&quot; Miracle of miracles, it works. After dropping her off, I head to the caf&eacute; that used to be my favorite in high school and open my tablet. When I emailed Miranda to say I&quot;d be in Dallas a couple of weeks working, she agreed. I promised we&quot

  <div class="flex">
  <div class="item-main">
  <div id="quillEditor" class="episode-content ql-editor">&quot;Do you have questions about recovery time? The procedure? Anesthetic?&quot; The surgeon spreads his hands on his desk. He&quot;s for sure taking for granted the range of motion in those fingers, those palms. The sixty-something man might be a doctor, but he&quot;s pure California. In living here the past year and a half, I&quot;ve learned Angelenos can take for granted almost anything. I shake my head. &quot;I&quot;ve done it before, at some of the best clinics in the country.&quot; &quot;Well, I like to think we have the best team here at UCLA. You&quot;re on the schedule for three weeks from now. I sincerely hope we can get you the results you&quot;re looking for in terms of both mobility and pain management.&quot; &quot;Me too.&quot; I leave the clinic and head outside into t

  <div class="flex">
  <div class="item-main">
  <div id="quillEditor" class="episode-content ql-editor">I&quot;m ripped from my dreams in my former bedroom the next morning. For once, it&quot;s not because I&quot;ve got an idea for a song or a line I need to write down. It&quot;s because of shrieking in the distance. I tug on tailored black shorts and a white tank top I brought from New York and head downstairs, but by the time I get there, it&quot;s quiet. The morning sun spills in through the huge kitchen windows and the slider doors. The only sign of life is Haley moving around the cavernous space, making coffee in a flowing black top. &quot;Everyone alive?&quot; I ask. She turns, smiling. &quot;Your dad took Sophia to daycare. She&quot;s always loved it, but recently, she&quot;s not a fan. Oliver doesn&quot;t like her and she doesn&quot;t like Teddy.&quot; She&quot;s moving slowly t

&quot;I don&quot;t want to wear that.&quot; Sophia gives me pre-schooler side-eye, then runs across the room toward her toys. I sit back on my heels, the dress clutched in my hands, and wish for caffeine. I offered to take my half sister to daycare today before starting on my work, but it&quot;s proving harder than expected. I scan her room, looking at the white furniture, the rainbow bedspread, the corner box of toys and puzzles where she&quot;s currently pulling things out, one after another. &quot;Hey, let&quot;s play a game,&quot; I decide. &quot;If you can pick out all your school things, I&quot;ll sing you a song in the car.&quot; Miracle of miracles, it works. After dropping her off, I head to the caf&eacute; that used to be my favorite in high school and open my tablet. When I emailed Miranda to say I&quot;d be in Dallas a couple of weeks working, she agreed. I promised we&quot;d email every day or two to talk progress. There&quot;s another person I need to update, and I&quot;m

CHAPTER 49