Chapter 2 She Didn't Know She Could Say No

After we got home, Piper fell asleep on the couch. I noticed three needle marks on her arm. The oldest one had already scabbed over.

Sawyer's messages kept popping up on my phone.

"Please calm down. Let's sit down and talk."

"The doctor said bone marrow donation has very little impact on the donor, and the recovery period is short."

"I would never risk Piper's life."

I did not respond.

…

Half an hour later, he came through the door carrying a strawberry cake, Piper's favorite. "I picked it up when I went to get her. She said she wanted some last time."

Piper had asked for strawberry cake on her birthday—two months ago.

He never remembered a thing she told him. Now, suddenly, he remembered everything.

He set the cake on the coffee table and crouched in front of the couch to look at Piper. He reached out to touch her cheek.

Even in her sleep, Piper flinched away.

His hand stopped in midair.

"I didn't mean to keep this from you. When Juliet came to me, Tatum had already been diagnosed. She'd searched every bone marrow registry she could find and still couldn't find a match. She was falling apart."

"So Piper was the first person you thought of."

"She's close to Tatum's age. The doctor said stem cells from children around the same age are the most active. I did a lot of research. The whole procedure is safe."

"When you were doing all that research, did you ever ask her?"

"She's too young to understand."

"She doesn't understand?" I stared at him.

"When she was five, she already knew to lock her toys away so Tatum couldn't take them. At six, she knew better than to fight him for her things. By seven, she'd figured out that if her daddy suddenly started being nice to her, there had to be a reason. And you think she doesn't understand?"

His lips pressed into a thin line.

The living room fell silent for a few seconds.

Piper turned over in her sleep and mumbled something. I leaned closer to hear her.

"Daddy said it would only hurt once. He lied."

Sawyer swallowed.

He sat down across from me, lowering his voice. "Sienna, I know I haven't done enough these few years, but Tatum really is dying. He's only eight. He doesn't understand any of this. Every day in that hospital room, he asks his mommy when he'll be able to go back to school."

"Your daughter's seven. Every day, she knows her daddy loves Tatum more than her. She's never once asked why."

He had no answer.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Juliet stood outside, her eyes red and swollen.

"Sienna, I know you're angry, but Tatum really doesn't have much time left. The doctor said if they can't find a suitable donor, he has six months at most. I know I've been wrong all these years. I've already asked too much of you. But this is my son's life we're talking about.

"Please, let Piper save Tatum. I'll beg you on my knees. I'll do anything you ask."

Piper woke up. She sat up on the couch and saw Juliet kneeling on the floor.

Instinctively, she pulled the blanket around herself, trying to hide.

"Mommy." Her voice trembled. "Why is Ms. Valenti crying?"

Sawyer answered before I could. "Tatum is sick. Ms. Valenti is worried about him."

Piper lowered her eyes to the needle marks on her arm, then looked at Juliet. "Is it because I didn't have enough blood?"

No one said a word.

The seven-year-old knew everything. She just did not know how to say no. Because no one in this family had ever taught her that she could say no.

Sawyer helped Juliet into the living room, getting her water and handing her tissues. As she took them, her fingers brushed the back of his hand.

I had seen little gestures like that countless times over the past seven years.

The year Juliet moved in, she said she was afraid of the dark. Whenever she heard a noise in the middle of the night, she would knock on our bedroom door.

Sawyer would leave in his pajamas and spend half an hour in her guest room. He always said she needed someone to keep her company.

Little by little, Juliet had become the woman of the house. And Sawyer had started treating Tatum like his own son.

There was always yogurt in the fridge for Tatum.

The first shelf of the shoe cabinet was filled with Tatum's shoes.

Two-thirds of the toy cabinet in the living room belonged to Tatum.

Piper's things had been confined to her bedroom.

Eventually, even that room was not big enough. She started stuffing the toys she rarely played with under her bed.