Sophie understood more than we wanted her to.
That evening, she asked me whether cancer meant she was going to die.
I climbed into bed beside her.
“It means the doctors know what they have to fight.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No,” I whispered. “It isn’t.”
I held her face between my hands.
“I don’t know everything that will happen. But the doctors believe they can treat this, and we are going to stay with you through every part of it.”
Her first chemotherapy cycle began three days later.
Daniel slept in the reclining chair beside her bed. Eric brought breakfast every morning, even when Sophie could not eat it. I learned to measure time by medications, blood tests, and the changing numbers on Dr. Shah’s reports.
A detective returned during Sophie’s treatment.
He told us the medical findings and Sophie’s consistent statements provided no basis for a criminal case against Daniel. The hospital social worker documented that no pregnancy had been found.
