Oh, Grace...

“I got blood on my wig.”

“I’ll wash it.” Sienna ran her hand down the side of Grace’s face. “How do you feel?”Pale. She’s pale. Was she this pale when I left? Was she tired?Sienna tried to remember their last moment together in the kitchen while Henry was in the shower. “Where’s Henry?”

Luella motioned at the door. “He’s down handling paperwork. They want to admit her for observation. She hit her head pretty hard.”

Sienna sighed as Grace began to cry. “It’s alright. A day or two, okay?” She squeezed her hand. “Did they run a full blood panel?” she asked Luella. “CBC, platelets—”

“Everything. The attending consulted Dr. Barron. She called the order in.”

Luella adjusted her stethoscope. “I have to get back upstairs. But I’ll find you after my shift, alright?”

“Luella, thank you,” Sienna called as the nurse made her way to the door. She turned back to Grace. “What happened?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We got popcorn, and then... I woke up on the floor. I don’t know. Lilah said I hit my head on the counter.”

“Have you been feeling off?” She tilted Grace’s face up so she could see her better.Pale, but no dark circles, no bruising.

Grace leaned against the pillow. “Tired, I guess.”

Sienna raised an eyebrow. “What kind of tired? How long—”

“Mom,” Grace interrupted. “Tired, like tired. And I have a headache now. I already told the doctor everything. You’re making my head hurt more.”

Looking down at Grace’s lap, she covered her daughter’s hands. “We talked about this, Grace. You have to tell me if you’re not feeling right.”

Grace looked away. “I thought if I told you, you wouldn’t let me go to the concert.”

A pit grew in Sienna’s stomach.It’s been a month since the concert,Sienna said to herself, biting the inside of her cheek. Her heart twisted.Please, please let this girl go to concerts and sleepovers and parties and—

“I want to go to prom,” Grace whispered. “I really want to go to prom, Mom.”

“You will,” Sienna said without hesitation, giving Grace’s hands a tight squeeze.You will even if we start chemo tomorrow. I’ll buy you a new wig. Emily will do your makeup.

Grace began to cry.

“Oh, Gracie—”

“Justinstillhasn’t asked me yet. What if I have no one to take me?” Grace asked, turning her head back to her mother. “Icannotgo without a date.”

Sienna let out a breathy, relieved laugh. If Grace’s concern was over not having secured a date to prom that was still a month away, Sienna would worry about hiding the chemo port beneath her dress later—if it came to that.

“You’ll have a date.” Sienna wondered if she might visit Justin at the diner and put in a little mother’s elbow grease.

Grace sighed. “Can you go ask where the plastic surgeon is? I don’t want a scar on my head.”

Sienna looked to the curtain. “Yeah. And let me go give them your insurance card. Hang tight.” She grabbed her bag and moved through the thin partition, bumping into Beau, who she had left at the curb of the ER entrance. “I thought you went home.”

Beau shrugged, pocketing his hands. He didn’t need to justify his presence to Sienna. She could read it in his eyes.There’s no place else I’d rather be, the warm brown orbs told her.

“How is she?”

Sienna glanced through the opening of the curtain. “She’s... tired,” Sienna said with a helpless shrug. “I want to see if they’ve got a plastic surgeon on the way. She’s got a nasty gash on her head. And I need to go down to admissions and—”

“Go,” Beau motioned down the hallway. “I’ll stay with her.”

“Oh, no, you won’t! I don’t have my wig on!” Grace shrieked from behind the curtain.