Until now.

I had to get that money.

I don’t know why I did it—maybe even then I couldn’t let go—but I shoved Josh’s hair into my pocket.

Dr. Palmer came in, casting a quick glance at me. Josh grinned a greeting, and Dr. Palmer’s creased face lit up. My boy. There was nobody who didn’t like him.

“Hey, Captain Smiley. You’re looking good!” Dr. Palmer pulled a round, wheeled stool over to Josh and gave him a fist bump.

I bit down hard on my bottom lip. “He was very sick last night.”

“It might take a few days for us to find the right combination of antinausea meds. I hope it’ll settle down by tomorrow.”

“Dr. Palmer, did you know that snails are very old?” Josh asked.

“I didn’t know that,” Dr. Palmer replied seriously. “What makes them old?”

“Because they’re very slow. So we hafta take care of them.”

“I think that’s very wise.”

The nurse, Katie, came in and prepped the bag of fludarabine and cyclophosphamide—the lymphodepleting chemotherapy regimen—that would go into Josh’s arm.

“Are you ready, Josh?” Dr. Palmer asked.

“Accept the challenge, I do,” Josh answered in a funny Yoda impression.

Nate and Dr. Palmer laughed, but I could barely bring myself to smile. I was so tired and so sad and so, so angry that this was happening to us. Angry that I was so helpless. Angry at this thing we couldn’t see eating away at Josh’s insides.

Katie leaned in with the needle, and I closed my eyes, trying not to think about it sliding into the blue vein on the back of my baby’s hand.

LATER THAT NIGHT, Nate and I tucked Josh into bed together. It was nice having Nate home instead of working for once. I leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. Charlie clambered onto the bed, excited that everybody was home. Josh wrapped his arms around him, and Charlie dragged his tongue across his face.

Josh giggled and it was pure magic. Even though his face was thinner than ever, his skin sallow, dark circles ringing his eyes, the antinausea meds seemed to be working. He’d only vomited a few times since the chemo drip. Now he was sleepy and clean, and we were all together, smooshed onto his bed.

Nate and I lay on either side of Josh, with Charlie at his feet.

“Pimple squish.” Josh smiled, although he lacked his usual energy. “Can I go back to school tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow, buddy,” Nate said. “Soon, I hope. You have your infusion next week, and if that goes well and you’re feeling better, you can go back to school after that.”

“But it’s boring at home. And I miss my friends.”

“We know, sweetie.” I stroked a hand over his hair gently. “You know I love you so much?”