Parker glanced up at her mother’s words. Her niece grabbed a fistful of Parker’s hair and tugged, not wanting to share her favorite—and only—aunt’s attention. Parker gasped and captured the little girl’s chubby, yet delicate fist. “Savannah, honey, Auntie Parker likes having her hair attached to her head,” she said chidingly as she very gently pried each one of the fingers open. Savannah only smiled, revealing two rows of baby teeth. Parker grimaced with pain and rubbed her stinging scalp as she distracted the three-year-old with a plush animal, which Savannah poked and prodded to find the source of the giggling. Satisfied that Savannah’s attention would be diverted for a whole two minutes, Parker turned to her mother. It was like looking into a gently aged mirror. Kelly Quinn was still slim, thanks to her daily power walks, and her hair was still as dark as both her daughters’. “It’s nothing, Mom. I’m fine.” “You’ve barely said two words since you got here.”
