My Daughter Needs Marrow, My Ex Said: Remarry Me and I'll Donate

The blood on the diagnosis was my five-year-old daughter Daisy's. A moment ago she'd been leaning against me with a nosebleed, and when I wiped it with the back of my hand I smeared it onto the page, a big spread of red soaking in, landing right over the second half of the words "acute lymphoblastic leukemia." The doctor sat across from me and pushed his glasses up, the plastic arms worn pale. He said, "You need to prepare yourself. The cure rate for this isn't low, but she'll need a marrow transplant. We've already checked the matches among immediate family. You're only a half-match with your child, which is too risky. Your ex-husband, Robert, is a full match. Right now he's the only optimal option."