Chapter 10
Lily’s evaluation happened on time.
That was all that mattered medically.
Dr. Mercer warned everyone, including me, not to turn hope into certainty.
Good.
I appreciated her for that.
The procedure might improve function.
It might not do everything Lily imagined.
No promises.
No miracle language.
Anna listened carefully.
So did Lily.
When Dr. Mercer finished, Lily asked:
“Will I walk?”
The room hurt.
Dr. Mercer crouched.
“We’re going to try to make your legs stronger and help you do more. I can’t promise exactly what that will look like.”
Lily thought.
Then:
“Can I still use my chair?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
That was enough.
Children sometimes handle uncertainty better than adults because they have not yet learned to demand guarantees from hope.
Afterward, Anna found me in the hallway.
“You didn’t have to do all this.”
I looked at her.
“I know.”
She stared.
“Daniel would hate owing you.”
I almost laughed.
“Yes.”
That sounded like him.
“So don’t make this debt.”
“It isn’t.”
“What is it?”
I thought about that.
“Correction.”
She frowned.
“Of what?”
“Something I walked past for years.”
Not Lily.
Systems like Maura’s.
Donor rooms.
Foundation dinners.
Wealthy people deciding which suffering looked worthwhile.
I had attended dozens.
Written checks.
Never asked who disappeared when funding priorities changed.
That was my failure.
Not equal to Maura’s.
Still mine.
Anna nodded slowly.
Then Lily rolled toward us holding a sticker from the nurse.
She stuck it on my suit.
A purple dinosaur.
I looked down.
Anna apologized immediately.
I stared at her.
Then at Lily.
“Looks expensive.”
Lily giggled.
Good.
May you like
For one moment, none of this was about power.
Just a ruined suit and a child laughing.
