Anastasia had thrown up every meal for four days, and the family that saved her was the only thing keeping her still on the bathroom floor. She lay in a nest of blankets Kaya built there this morning. Soft ones. Nothing scratchy near her sore belly. She wore loose clothes for the same reason. Her red hair stuck to her wet cheeks. She was fourteen, and she wanted nothing except to stay here, in this house, with the woman who took her in. Kaya took her and her twin Sailor in as sisters after they both lost their babies. The grief made their stomachs turn on them. Sailor got sick too, but Sailor stopped. Anastasia didn't. Breakfast came up in ten minutes, like always. Now, hours later, she was still heaving into the bowl beside the nest. Kaya knelt at the door. Dark hair, white streaks, a wet cloth in her hand. She wiped Anastasia's mouth without flinching. "This isn't slowing," Kaya said. "You can't keep water down. That's the real problem." Anastasia's lips shook. "Don't send me to the clinic. Please. I want to stay home." "You're staying home." Kaya said it once, plain, and Anastasia believed her. Kaya loved by feeding people. Watching food refuse to stay in her sister was its own kind of hurt, and it showed in her jaw. Kaya left and came back with a wooden box. She set it on the floor and opened it. Small bottles rattled inside. She had bought these one by one, trying to find the right one. "I got a new one yesterday," she said. "For nausea. It dissolves under the tongue. Nothing to swallow. Nothing to throw up." Anastasia stared at the tiny white tablet in Kaya's palm. "What if it comes back up too?" "It can't. It melts before it reaches your stomach." Anastasia opened her mouth. Kaya placed the tablet under her tongue. It tasted faintly sweet. They waited. Anastasia gripped the blanket edge and counted her breaths the way Kaya taught her. Ten minutes passed. Her stomach twisted, rose, then eased. It didn't climb her throat. She pressed a hand flat to her belly and felt it settle for the first time in days. "It's staying," she whispered. Kaya poured half a cup of water. "Slow. One sip." Anastasia sipped. She waited. The water stayed down. She sipped again. Her eyes filled, but not from being sick. "It's staying, Kaya." Kaya sat back on her heels. Her shoulders dropped. "Good." She smoothed the red hair off Anastasia's face. "Tomorrow we try food. Small. Broth first." Anastasia nodded and sank into the blankets. She was still weak, four days empty and shaking. But she was home, and the medicine worked, and Kaya was right beside her. The bottle sat open on the floor. There was only one tablet left inside.