He moved toward me.
His hand touched the wall.
For a second, he seemed unsteady.
I should have noticed.
Instead, I stepped away.
“Don’t.”
Tom stopped.
His face crumpled.
“Please don’t do this before you understand.”
“I understand enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
Then Ariana screamed.
“STOP!”
We both turned.
She was crying.
I had never seen her look so angry.
“You’re being mean to Daddy!”
My heart broke.
“Ariana—”
“No!”
She ran toward me and grabbed my hand.
“Come with me.”
“Honey—”
“Now!”
She pulled me down the hallway.
Into her bedroom.
Then she shut the door.
Tom didn’t follow.
Ariana wiped her face with both hands.
Then she went to her closet.
She pulled out a shoebox.
Inside was a thick braid of dark hair tied with two pink ribbons.
My daughter’s hair.
She lifted it carefully.
“Mommy.”
My anger disappeared.
“You kept it?”
She nodded.
“Because we need to send it.”
“Send it where?”
She looked confused.
“To the wig people.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“For kids who lose their hair.”
The room went silent.
I looked at the braid.
Then at Ariana.
“You donated it?”
She nodded.
“Daddy helped me find a place that makes wigs.”
I sat on the edge of her bed.
Everything inside me began shifting.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ariana looked toward the door.
“Because it was supposed to be a surprise.”
“For who?”
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she reached into the shoebox again.
She pulled out a photograph.
A little girl.
Maybe six.
She was sitting beside a red vintage Mustang, smiling at the camera.
She had no hair.
My stomach tightened.
“Who is this?”
Ariana whispered:
“Lucy.”
“Who’s Lucy?”
“My friend.”
“From school?”
She shook her head.
“From Daddy’s hospital.”
Hospital.
The word landed like a brick.
“What hospital?”
Ariana immediately realized she had said too much.
Her eyes widened.
“Mommy…”
“What hospital?”
The bedroom door opened.
Tom stood there.
He looked defeated.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Just tired.
“Rachel.”
I stood.
“What hospital?”
Tom closed his eyes.
Then he sat down beside Ariana.
“St. Matthew’s.”
I knew St. Matthew’s.
Everybody in our city did.
It had one of the largest cancer treatment centers in the state.
My legs went weak.
“No.”
Tom looked at me.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“After we knew more.”
“Knew more about what?”
He took a breath.
“Three months ago, I started getting headaches.”
I stared at him.
“They got worse. Then I blacked out at work.”
