Chapter 2

I didn't answer Paula's question.

The doctor wouldn't let her keep talking and quickly fitted her with a noninvasive ventilator.

By two in the morning, her condition had stabilized for the time being.

Oliver didn't come back.

He only had his driver bring over a cake, a reward, he said, for when Paula woke up.

When the nurse opened the box, everyone fell silent.

There was a line of pink writing across the buttercream.

"Forever happy, Hilary."

The driver explained awkwardly, "They must have grabbed the wrong one. It was Secretary Hughes's birthday yesterday, so Mr. Farley ordered two cakes. This one wasn't finished."

I closed the lid.

"Take it away."

Paula saw it through the glass and tapped lightly on the bed rail.

"Mom, is that from Dad?"

"No. It came by mistake."

The light that had just flickered in her eyes went dim again.

"It's okay if I don't get any."

Before dawn, the lawyer reached Oliver and told him I wanted a divorce.

That morning, Oliver's older sister, Aileen Farley, showed up with a few relatives.

She didn't ask about Paula's condition first. She called me out into the hallway instead.

"Oliver says you want a divorce?"

"Yes."

Aileen's face darkened.

"Just because he didn't get to the hospital fast enough? A man has his own affairs out in the world. You can't use a sick child to force him to revolve around you twenty-four hours a day."

"Is Hilary's cat his own affair?"

"That girl has no father, no mother, and she's been with Oliver five years. You're Mrs. Farley. Do you really not have even that much room in you for another person?"

The relatives stood off to the side, murmuring at me to let it go.

"The child is still sick. Don't make trouble."

"Oliver already came by. That shows you two are in his heart."

"The scoring is just so family matters have some order to them. There's no malice in it."

I looked at Aileen.

"This system, all of you know about it?"

She didn't think anything of it.

"Of course we do. You and Paula are always going to him over every little thing. That's why he came up with the method."

"Last month, at Paula's dance recital, you called him more than a dozen times. Didn't that keep him from taking Hilary to her therapist?"

A crash came from inside the room, something hitting the floor.

I pushed the door open and saw Paula scrambling to pick up a drawing from her bedside.

It was the family portrait she'd drawn last month, before her competition.

In it, Oliver sat in the front row with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

But that day, right up until the performance ended, his seat had stayed empty.

Paula tucked the drawing under her blanket and said softly, "Auntie, I won't call Dad anymore."

Aileen's expression turned a little uneasy.

"Auntie isn't blaming you, I'm teaching you to be sensible. Your dad is very busy. You can't go to him for everything."

I pressed the call button.

"Please see them out."

Aileen said, displeased, "Bianca, we came to see the child."

"She needs rest."

"I'm her aunt. Her own flesh and blood."

"Then you should have asked her first whether she's in pain, not taught her how to avoid bothering her father."

Footsteps came from the doorway again.

Oliver walked in holding the cat that had gone missing, Hilary behind him, her eyes faintly red.

"Aileen, don't blame Bianca. It's all my fault."

She went to the bedside and held out a brand-new tablet to Paula.

"This is Auntie's apology. Cookie got sick last night, that's the only reason your dad had to go."

Paula didn't take it.

Hilary went on, gently, "Cookie was hospitalized too, but he was so brave. He didn't make a single sound. Paula should be brave too, okay?"

I pushed the tablet back.

"She doesn't need to compete with a cat."

Oliver handed the cat to the driver, his tone cooling.

"Hilary was only trying to comfort her. There's no need to put a barb in every word."

Paula suddenly pulled one side of the ventilator mask away from her face.

"Dad, I didn't cry."

She forced herself to sit up straight, her pale little face full of the need to please.

"Not even during the injections. The nurse said I was very brave."

Oliver made a small sound of acknowledgment.

"That's how it should be."

Paula looked up at him, waiting.

"Then can I get one more point?"

The room went completely still.

Oliver's brow creased slightly.

"Who taught you to say that?"

Paula gripped the sheet and answered in a small voice,

"Auntie said if I'm just a little more sensible, Dad will give me seven points."