Chapter 10 - BLYTHE’S HAIRBlythe’s hair began growing back months later.
Soft.
Uneven.
She hated it.
“I look weird.”
Clara looked at her.
“You look like you.”
“That is not helpful.”
Lawson entered carrying a box.
“What’s that?”
“Hats.”
Blythe groaned.
“Dad.”
He opened it.
Twenty-seven hats.
Clara stared.
“You bought a store.”
“They had options.”
Blythe laughed.
That was the point.
Later Blythe chose no hat.
Walked through the garden with her head uncovered.
Lawson tried not to stare.
Clara noticed.
“Proud?”
“Terrified.”
“Of?”
“Everything.”
“Good.”
He rolled his eyes.
The twins returned to school remotely.
Then part-time.
Doctors still watched closely.
No one used the word cured.
Remission entered conversation carefully.
First year.
Then another milestone.
Every follow-up appointment frightened Lawson.
He stopped hiding it.
Jonah once said:
“Dad, you’re doing the face.”
“What face?”
“The death face.”
Clara laughed.
May you like
Lawson glared.
Children noticed everything.
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