My Daughter Was 15 When She Finally Looked Me in the Eye and Whispered, “I Don’t Tell Dad When I’m Hurting Anymore. He Says I Only Do It for Attention.” The Next Afternoon, I Checked Her Out of School and Drove Her to the Hospital Without a Word to My Husband. Halfway Through the Scan, the Technician Went Completely Quiet.

Paige studied the notebook and drew a small mark next to her name.

“Am I allowed to draw in it?”

“You can do whatever you want in it.

It belongs to you.”

She drew a volleyball with a bandage wrapped around it.

Then she added a tiny, determined face underneath the ball.

“That’s me,” she said, and for the first time since the scan had started, her voice sounded like her own again.

PART 4