Her cold, stiff hands made jagged lines in the air as the sum of all of her effort left her fingertips, reaching so desperately for the dismal gray plastic cup that lie on the tray above her skinny thighs. Her purple-blue veins pulsed against her fingernails as her icy eyes remained focused on their target. Her thin lips were tense, her delicately scarred forehead strained, as her hands longed to touch the smooth surface of the cup. As her fingers were just inches away from their goal, a sudden, wrong, and faulty impulse sent them sharply to the left, then to the right until she grazed the cup with the tips of her fingers, pushing it farther away. A soft, blonde, ringleted curl fell from behind her ears as her eyes broke their fierce grasp and her exasperated hands fell into her lap.

“Let me get that for you.” said the pale, redheaded girl as her dark brows furrowed with worry. Her thoughts were just on the brink of realization of what changes would have to come, her ears ringing with the solemn doctor’s diagnostic words that were washed over the girl like waves just minutes before. To her, the day was a bombshell, but to her trembling mother, it was a relief.