Yimmy tried to calm Vivvy, but she wouldn’t stop crying, almost screaming, piercing, screeching.

     “What’s wrong, little sweets,” Hans asked the howling child.

     “She’s been fed and changed,” Yimmy told him, the baby against her chest and shoulder, gently patting the baby’s back.  “It’s like nothing makes her happy lately.  She just wants to cry.”

     “Colic, getting a tooth?”

     “Maybe, but no evidence of a tooth yet.”

     “We’ll just try to keep her comfy, and fed, and clean, and dry, and the rest we’ll just have to roll with.”

     &...

Please subscribe to keep reading.