My hand went straight to her blanket.
“You only turn seven once.”
“Let’s get through seven first.”
Alice nodded too easily.
Before she got sick, she’d complained about being tired.
I’d blamed school.
Then bruises appeared.
Alice nodded too easily.
I blamed the playground.
Nothing had looked terrifying until suddenly all of it did.
I’d never forgiven myself for missing the beginning.
So now I noticed everything.
If Alice rubbed her eyes, I noticed.
If she ate less, I noticed.
I blamed the playground.
If she got quiet, I noticed.
I had turned watching her into a full-time job.
That morning, a nurse brought in a giant birthday card from Alice’s class.
It was covered in stickers, hearts, superhero drawings, and names written in every color.
Alice read every one.
So did I.
One name was missing.
I had turned watching her into a full-time job.
Sophie.
Before treatment, Sophie had practically lived at our house. She and Alice argued about movies, dinosaurs, and which superhero was strongest.
Alice checked the card again.
“Maybe she forgot.”
“She wouldn’t forget your birthday.”
Alice shrugged.
“Maybe she forgot.”
“I’ve missed almost a whole year of school, Mom. It’s okay if Sophie has other friends.”
“I could ask your teacher.”
Her eyes snapped toward me.
“Please don’t.”
“I’d only ask if everything’s okay.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“I could ask your teacher.”
I nodded.
“All right.”
Then, while Alice watched television, I sent the message anyway.
“Is everything okay between the girls? Alice noticed Sophie didn’t sign her card.”
At the time, I told myself I was helping.
I sent the message anyway.
Later that morning, Dr. Malcolm came in.
He’d treated Alice for most of the year. I trusted him because he never spoke around her as if she weren’t there.
He checked on her, asked how she felt, then looked at her superhero figures.
“Who’s working today?”
Alice pointed at Spider-Man.
Dr. Malcolm came in.
“He’s my chemo buddy today.”
“Good choice.”
Then Dr. Malcolm looked at me.
“I need to step out for a few minutes.”
I straightened.
“Is something wrong?”
“He’s my chemo buddy today.”
“No, Maggie. Not at all.”
I watched him leave, feeling my heart sink.
Alice noticed.
“You’re doing the face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you’re waiting for something bad.”
