“I thought you were going to be angry because I kept complaining.”
I looked at her.
“Why would I be angry?”
“Because Dad always said I was making a big deal out of nothing.”
I took her hand.
“Sweetheart, never confuse someone’s refusal to listen with proof that your pain isn’t real.”
She was quiet for a moment.
Then she said:
“I’m glad you didn’t listen to him.”
I looked at my daughter.
I thought about the hospital corridor, the scan, the doctor’s serious expression, and the terrible moment when I learned that Curtis had known about the mass.
I thought about the document with his signature.
I thought about the money, the lies, and the months of pain Sadie had endured.
And I understood something I wished I had understood sooner.
A parent doesn’t have to know exactly what’s wrong to know when their child needs help.
Sometimes love means asking questions.
