When Daniel closed the door, the party noise rushed back in like someone unmuted the world.
“Everything okay?” my sister called.
“Wrong house,” I lied. “They had the wrong address.”
Sophie ran up, frosting on her chin.
“Mom!
Where were you?” she asked. “We’re opening presents!”
I pulled her into my arms and squeezed.
“You’re squishing me,” she giggled.
“Sorry,” I said, kissing her hair. “I just love you a lot.”
The next morning, we were at the pediatrician.
I told our doctor everything.
The visit. The old bloodwork. The word “leukemia.”
She didn’t wave it off.
“Okay,” she said.
“We’ll run her bloodwork today, and I’ll refer you to a pediatric oncologist. We won’t panic before we know, but we are not ignoring this.”
Sophie swung her legs on the exam table.
“Do I have to get a shot?” she asked.
“Just a little poke,” the nurse said. “Then you get a sticker.”
“I want three,” Sophie said.
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