All she wanted was to go to her dad.

Her mother was usually as stoic as her dad, but now she sank into Karen’s arms, the bulky sack between them pushed what felt like a shoebox into their thighs. And then, Karen could no longer hold her tears back. “I know this is hard for you, honey,” her mother said. 

CURE-ALL BY REBECCA BECK 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 67

Karen drove eight hours straight …