She glanced into the room where Frannie was rocking a baby and singing softly to the tiny form in Frannie’s arms. Katie recognized Brahms’ lullaby, the melody her mother had sung to lull her to sleep. She pulled up a chair. “Are you okay, Frannie?” she asked.
Fat tears rolled down Frannie’s cheeks. “I’m okay, but he’s not. He’s dying, Katie,” she whispered as she rocked the baby in her arms.
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