Chapter 1
Maya gripped my wrist while Dr. Lawson moved the ultrasound wand across her stomach.
“Mom,” she whispered, “please make it stop.”
Her fingers were cold. The rest of her was burning with fever.
“I’m here,” I said.
She shook her head. “I can’t keep pretending.”
I looked at her face. She was fifteen, but she looked smaller on that exam table than she had in years. Her hair stuck to her forehead. She had barely spoken during the drive from Meridian to Boise.
When her hospital gown shifted, I saw the bruise near her shoulder.
She had told me she got it at soccer practice.
I had asked which game. She had said she couldn’t remember.
I’d accepted that answer because I wanted an ordinary explanation.
Dr. Lawson stopped moving the wand.
His eyes stayed on the monitor.
“Doctor?” I asked.
He turned the screen away from Maya and called the nurse closer. They spoke too softly for me to hear.
Maya’s grip tightened.
Six weeks ago, the sickness had started with a stomachache before school. Then came the mornings she couldn’t keep breakfast down. She stopped finishing dinner. Sometimes I heard her crying through her bedroom wall.
Robert always had a reason.
“She’s anxious about her grades.”
“She’s probably skipping meals.”
“She knows you’ll let her stay home if she makes a scene.”
I had argued with him. I had also let myself be reassured when Maya seemed better for an afternoon. Then another morning would come, and she would be bent over the bathroom sink.
That morning, she had leaned against the kitchen counter because she couldn’t stand upright.
“I’m taking her to the emergency room,” I’d said.
Robert set down his coffee mug so hard it spilled.
“No. She has school.”
“She can barely walk.”
“She’s been doing this for weeks. Stop rewarding it.”
Maya stood behind me. I saw her flinch when he looked at her.
He pointed toward the stairs. “Get dressed.”
She obeyed.
I waited until Robert drove away. Then I called the school and helped Maya into the car. I was frightened by how little she protested.
Now Dr. Lawson put the wand down.
“Nancy,” he said to the nurse, “please ask social work to join us.”
I stood. “Tell me what you see.”
He pulled a stool beside the table.
“Maya is ill, and she needs treatment,” he said. “I also have concerns about injuries that need a careful assessment.”
“What injuries?”
He looked at Maya. “Would you like your mother to stay while I ask a few questions?”
She stared at the ceiling.
“Maya?” I said.
“I want her here,” she whispered.
Dr. Lawson nodded. He asked whether anyone had hurt her. He spoke gently, leaving time after each question.
She didn’t answer.
He asked whether she felt safe going home.
Her whole body went still.
I felt the answer before she said anything.
“Maya, look at me,” I whispered. “You can tell me.”
Her lips moved, but no words came.
Dr. Lawson leaned back. “You don’t have to explain everything at once. My first job is to help you with the pain.”
Maya’s eyes filled.
“He said nobody would believe me.”
I held the edge of the exam table.
“Who said that?”
She turned her face toward the wall.
My phone buzzed in my purse. I ignored it. It buzzed again, then again.
I took it out, intending to silence it.
Robert’s name filled the screen.
A message appeared beneath the missed calls.
WHERE DID YOU TAKE HER?
Maya saw it. She folded her arms tightly across her chest.
“Please don’t tell him I said anything,” she whispered.
The room seemed to narrow until all I could see was her face.
“Did Robert hurt you?” I asked.
She shut her eyes.
That was when I understood why she had been afraid to be sick in her own home.
I wanted to demand an answer. I wanted to go back six weeks and listen differently every time she said her stomach hurt. I wanted to take my phone and shout at Robert until he told me the truth.
Maya needed me beside her.
I put the phone away.
“You don’t have to speak to him,” I said. “I won’t bring him here.”
Her eyes opened. “He’ll come.”
“He doesn’t know where we are.”
“He knows you bring me to Boise when I’m really sick.”
I turned to Dr. Lawson. “Can you make sure he isn’t allowed in?”
“We can tell the team,” he said. “I’ll also have the social worker explain how we can help keep Maya safe.”
Nancy returned with a woman who introduced herself as Elena Ruiz. Elena asked Maya whether she wanted a drink of water and brought her one with a straw. She spoke to my daughter before speaking to me.
The simple courtesy nearly broke me.
Dr. Lawson explained that Maya’s pain required more tests and that some of the findings could have several causes. He would treat what was urgent. Elena would help us talk about safety and the next steps.
“I need to know whether she’ll be okay,” I said.
“We’re taking care of her,” he answered. “I’ll tell you what we learn as we learn it.”
Maya reached for my hand again.
“I thought if I told you, you’d ask him,” she said.
I felt a sharp, terrible shame. I had asked Robert about her sickness again and again. I had let him answer for her.
“I should have asked you when we were alone,” I said.
“You did. A few times.” Her voice was faint. “I got scared.”
“You don’t have to protect him.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
My eyes burned. “I’m your mom. Let me take care of you now.”
A sound came from the hallway. Footsteps approached the door, and Maya’s fingers dug into mine.
May you like
Nancy stepped inside with a concerned look.
“There’s a man at the front desk,” she said. “He says he’s her father.”
