“We’ve caught it early, but I won’t lie, this is tough to cure. We need an aggressive treatment plan, and we need to start now. Without treatment, survival of AML is usually measured in weeks, not months. I can’t promise Josh would even see the new year.”

My hand flew to my mouth, and Nate gasped loudly, his face draining of color.

“We have two options,” Dr. Palmer continued. “We can do a high dose of chemotherapy, followed by a targeted therapy drug and a stem cell transplant. Or we can go the CAR T-cell immunotherapy route. As I said, the hospital’s insurance only covers a portion of the treatment, but it is FDA-approved so they should at least cover some of it.”

“I’ll call and find out more today,” I told Nate.

“You might get stuck with hospital stays, blood work, extra tests,” Dr. Palmer warned. “It will cost a lot, no matter which way you look at it.”

“We’ll do whatever it takes,” I said.

Dr. Palmer steepled his hands on top of his desk, his gaze heavy on mine. “Josh is, what, just a few years younger than you were when your parents passed?”

Nate’s head swiveled to face me. There had been no time last night to tell him how I knew Dr. Palmer. “Eight. He’s eight years younger than I was.”

“Let’s be sure we’re fighting to save the same person.”

I swallowed hard. “Josh is all that matters. He has a chance to live if we get him the CAR T-cell therapy.”

NATE CAUGHT up with me in the corridor as I strode quickly away from Dr. Palmer’s office.

“You want to tell me what that was about back there?”

“What?” I didn’t want to do this now.

“With Dr. Palmer. How do you know him?”

I kept walking. “It doesn’t matter.”

Nate grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. “Don’t do that, Em. Don’t shut me out.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to make me understand!”

I wished with all of my heart I could share more of myself with Nate. But the wounds from my past were too raw and deep. Talking about it, exposing them to anyone, even someone who loved me as deeply as I knew Nate did, was like rubbing them with salt. I’d taught myself long ago to lock it away, and that decision had allowed me to live.

I sighed and continued walking, slower this time. It would be easier to talk if he wasn’t looking at me.

“I don’t like thinking about it, let alone talking about it,” I said finally.

“I want to be here for you, to support you, but I can’t if you won’t talk to me.”