Mom reached out, her hand hovering over my shoulder. “Sweetheart, we heard what happened. The flour in the baby powder… it was just a silly prank. Natalie feels terrible.”

My head snapped up so fast my neck cracked. “What?”

“It was supposed to be funny,” Natalie said, actually rolling her eyes. She shifted her weight, looking bored. “I switched it out when I was over last week. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. Babies breathe in dust all the time. You’re being dramatic.”

The rage that flooded my body was unlike anything I had ever known. It wasn’t hot; it was ice cold.

“You switched my baby powder with flour?” I whispered, my voice rising. “My daughter almost died.”

Dad’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, his grip punishing. “Keep your voice down. This is a hospital. People are staring.”

“She could have died!” I screamed, shoving his hand away.