I've turned the grief to medicine

Phoebe Steadman I've dropped out, burned up Fought my way back from the dead " A year?!" Phoebe breathed, aghast. "It's only been a few hours!" she said in defense. But also disbelief. Slowly she lifted her hand. Pointing at the child in his arms. " Is that baby mine?" she said, quiet, almost deadly. Then she screeched. "Give me my baby!" She held out her arms, longing, needing, the child. But she was no deranged woman. She was a woman longongher child.