Chapter 2
For a moment, I thought I had misunderstood him.
“What money?”
Daniel sat in his desk chair as though his legs could no longer hold him.
“After your second hospital stay, my mother said she wanted to organize a fundraiser. I told her we would accept help if people offered it, but I didn’t want anyone pressured.”
“I remember. She said almost nothing came in.”
“That’s what she told us.”
I thought of the night his mother, Diane, came over with a casserole and a worried face. She said people cared, but times were hard. I thanked her for trying.
Daniel rubbed his eyes.
“Last week, someone at the warehouse asked whether the donations had covered your treatment. He said his team had given almost eight thousand dollars.”
My mouth went dry.
“Eight thousand?”
“He showed me the transfer.”
“How much was raised altogether?”
“I don’t know yet. Owen set up the account. Mom collected checks from the church and from people who knew her. They were supposed to give us a full record.”
I looked at the overdue bills on the floor.
“They watched you sell your car.”
Daniel nodded.
“They watched me get sicker because I was worrying about money,” I said.
“I haven’t proven where it went.”
“You didn’t ask them?”
“I did. Mom said some pledges never came through. Owen said expenses had eaten up the rest.”
“Expenses for what?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
I wanted to call Diane. I wanted to hear her explain those months.
Daniel saw me reach for my phone.
“Wait. My brother says they’re on their way here.”
“How does he know?”
“He went to Mom’s house to ask for copies of the account statements. Owen got there first. They saw the letter from my attorney.”
“Your attorney?”
“I spoke to a lawyer yesterday.”
I stared at him.
He had kept that from me too.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“I was going to tell you after she checked whether we had a claim. I didn’t want to put you through another fight if it turned out to be a mistake.”
“It’s already a fight. It’s happening in our house.”
He nodded.
“You’re right.”
I gathered the bills and set them on the desk.
“Where’s Lily?”
“At my sister’s. Rachel picked her up from school.”
“Your brother told your mother not to ask where she was?”
“Yes. I asked Rachel to keep her tonight, before I knew Mom was coming.”
The doorbell rang.
I flinched.
Daniel stood and looked through the front window.
“It’s them.”
I moved beside him.
Diane stood on the porch in her long beige coat. Owen was behind her, looking down at his phone.
For years, Diane had introduced me as the daughter she never had. She sat with me during my first treatment and brushed my hair when I was too weak to lift my arms.
I opened the door before Daniel could stop me.
“Emma, sweetheart.” Diane took in my face. “You look tired. Are you all right?”
“I found the bills.”
Her smile faltered.
Owen stepped forward.
“This is really between Daniel and us.”
“No,” I said. “People gave money for my care. I’m part of this.”
Diane put a hand to her chest.
“No one took money from you.”
“Then show us the statements.”
She looked at Daniel.
“I knew this would upset her.”
“She was already upset,” he said. “She found out I sold my car.”
Owen sighed.
“Are we going to blame Mom for your choices now?”
Daniel moved between us.
“Show me where the donations went.”
“Some went toward outreach,” Owen said.
“What outreach?”
“Printing. Events. Payment processing.”
“Enough to empty the account?”
Owen’s mouth tightened.
“I don’t have every figure in my head.”
“Bring the records tomorrow,” Daniel said.
Diane looked past him at me.
“Emma, I hope you know we did our best.”
I remembered how she had held my hand in the hospital. I wanted her to be telling the truth.
“Then help us understand,” I said.
She did not answer.
Owen caught her elbow.
“We should go. Your lawyer can speak to mine.”
As they turned away, Diane said, “I never meant for this to hurt you.”
I gripped the doorframe.
“What did you mean to happen?”
She kept walking.
Daniel shut the door.
My phone buzzed. Rachel had sent a picture of Lily sitting at her kitchen table, grinning over a bowl of spaghetti.
Seeing her safe made me cry harder.
Daniel held out his arms. This time I stepped into them.
“I’m sorry I shut you out,” he said.
“I need the truth from now on. Even when it scares you.”
“You’ll have it.”
A message appeared on his phone from the attorney.
May you like
Daniel read it, then showed me.
The fundraising platform had sent its first response. Its records showed that the account had received more than seventy thousand dollars.
