Justice for the Family

Synopsis

I jolted awake to the sound of Leo's ragged coughing. The digital clock on my nightstand glowed 2:17 AM, casting an eerie blue light across our sparse bedroom. Michael's side of the bed was empty—again. Probably at Amanda's, I thought bitterly, but I pushed the familiar ache aside as another harsh cough echoed from Leo's room. Throwing back the covers, I rushed down the hallway of our modest Fort Lewis housing unit. The worn carpet was rough against my bare feet, a constant reminder of how little Michael invested in our actual home. "Leo, baby?" I whispered, pushing open his door. My five-year-old son sat upright in bed, his small chest heaving with each labored breath. When he turned to me, his flushed face glistened with sweat in the glow of his dinosaur night light. "Mommy," he wheezed, "my chest hurts." I pressed my palm to his forehead and pulled back instantly. He was burning up. "We're going to the clinic, sweetheart," I said, trying to keep my voice steady as panic clawed at my throat. I grabbed his favorite blue blanket and wrapped it around his trembling shoulders. Outside, rain pounded against the windshield of our aging sedan as I sped toward the base clinic, stealing glances at Leo