Lois clenched her fist as she stared down at the boiling pot of water. In the background, she heard could hear her two youngest sons fighting on the staircase and her new daughter playing in her high chair. She set her jaw and hung her head. Out of all her children, it had to be her personal favourite who snapped.
"She's your daughter," Dr Flynn said "She needs you. Would you really deny her?"
"I have five daughters, Dr Flynn," Lois said in a clipped tone "Two of them are married, one is in prison, one is locked up in the loony bin and the other is waiting for her dinner."
She threw the macaroni into the pot rather carelessly, hissing when water splashed and burnt her hand. She drew away from the cooker and kissed the burn on her hand. She stared at the photo that was stuck on the fridge of her middle daughter. Gripping the phone, she heaved a sigh.