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if I can tell her while I’m there. But if I don’t get her, tell her I called.”
    â€œSure,” said Nancy. “I know she’d be glad to hear from you.”
    â€œHow’s Tad doing?” asked Cathryn. “Is he coming home soon?”
    â€œHe’s awfully sick, Mrs. Martel. He had to have a marrow transplant. They tested all us kids and little Lisa was the only one who matched. He’s living in a tent to protect him from germs.”
    â€œI’m terribly sorry to hear that,” said Cathryn. She could feel a little of her strength drain away. She had no idea whata marrow transplant was, but it sounded serious and scary. She said good-bye to Nancy and hung up the phone. For a moment she sat thinking, dreading the emotional aspect of the confrontation with Merge, feeling the guilt of not having called sooner. Tad’s illness made her own fears about Michelle’s nosebleed seem petty by comparison. Taking a deep breath, Cathryn went into the living room.
    Michelle was watching the Today show, propped up on the couch. After some orange juice and rest, she felt considerably better, but she was still upset. Although Charles had not said it, she was certain he was disappointed in her. The nosebleed had been the final aggravation.
    â€œI called Dr. Wiley’s office,” said Cathryn as brightly as she could, “and the nurse said we should come as soon as possible. Otherwise we might have a long wait. So let’s get the show on the road.”
    â€œI feel much better,” said Michelle. She forced a smile but her lips trembled.
    â€œGood,” said Cathryn. “But you stay still. I’ll get your coat and stuff.” Cathryn started for the stairs.
    â€œCathryn, I think I’m all right now. I think I can go to school.” As if to substantiate her opinion, Michelle swung her legs to the floor and stood up. Her smile wavered through a flurry of weakness.
    Cathryn turned and looked at her adopted daughter, feeling a rush of affection for his little girl whom Charles loved so dearly. Cathryn had no idea why Michelle would want to deny her illness unless she was afraid of the hospital like Cathryn was. She walked over and put her arms around the child, hugging her close. “You don’t have to be afraid, Michelle.”
    â€œI’m not afraid,” said Michelle, resisting Cathryn’s embrace.
    â€œYou’re not?” asked Cathryn, more to have something to say. She was always taken by surprise to have her affection refused. Cathryn smiled self-consciously, her hands still resting on Michelle’s shoulders.
    â€œI think I should go to school. I don’t have to take gym if you give me a note.”
    â€œMichelle. You haven’t been feeling right for a month. You had a fever this morning. I think it’s time we did something.”
    â€œBut I feel fine now, and want to go to school.”
    Taking her hands off Michelle’s shoulders, Cathryn examined the defiant face in front of her. In so many ways Michelle remained a mystery. She was such a precise, serious little girl who seemed mature for her age, but for some reason always kept Cathryn at arm’s length. Cathryn wondered how much of it was due to Michelle’s losing her mother at age three. Cathryn felt she knew something about growing up with only one parent because of her own father’s abandonment.
    â€œI tell you what we’ll do,” said Cathryn, debating with herself the best way to handle the problem. “We’ll take your temperature again. If you still have a fever, we go. If you don’t, then we won’t.”
    Michelle’s temperature was 100.8.
    An hour and a half later, Cathryn pulled the old Dodge station wagon into the garage at Pediatric Hospital and took a ticket from the machine. Thankfully it had been an uneventful ride. Michelle had spoken very little during the trip, only answering direct questions. To Cathryn