My fingers tightened around the bedrail.
« What part? What’s happening? Is Alice okay? »
Alice wiped her cheeks and looked at me.
Dr. Malcolm’s expression softened.
And suddenly the costumes didn’t matter anymore.
Because whatever came next had nothing to do with Alice’s birthday party.
***
Three hours earlier, I’d been trying to convince myself that spending her seventh birthday in the hospital didn’t have to feel like another thing cancer had stolen.
Dr. Malcolm’s expression softened.
Alice had been fighting leukemia for almost a year.
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