Instead, he carried Alice upstairs and settled her in bed.

That evening, Ben called from Ohio.

“How’s my girl?”

Elias looked into the bedroom.

“Still sick.”

“Did the clinic say what it was?”

“They think it’s a chest infection.

Told me what to watch for.”

“I can turn around after this delivery.

Might take me most of the night.”

Elias hesitated.

Ben had already missed work earlier that month when Alice needed care.

Another missed delivery could cost him his job.

“Finish your route,” Elias said.

“Dad, she’s my daughter.”

“I know that.”

“Then let me come home.”

Elias sat down.

He was tired of being the man who always insisted everything was under control.

He was tired of making other people guess what he needed.

But the old habit was difficult to break.

“Ben, listen.

If she gets worse, I’ll take her straight to the hospital.

I won’t wait.”

“Promise?”

Elias looked at Alice.

“I promise.

I won’t let pride get between that little girl and the help she needs.”

He heard Ben breathe out slowly.

“All right.

Call me if anything changes.

Doesn’t matter what time.”

“I will.”

They said goodnight.

Elias heated water for tea and sat in the dark kitchen.

For a while, he listened to the refrigerator hum.

Then he took the photograph of Mara from the tin box and placed it beside his coffee cup.

He studied the smiling young woman.

“Your mother always said you’d be a doctor,” he whispered.

His voice cracked slightly.

“I hope she was right.”

He was not sure why he said it.

Perhaps because he had been thinking about doctors all day.

Perhaps because Mara had never felt farther away.

Or perhaps because, somewhere deep inside him, he had finally grown tired of pretending he did not miss her.

He touched the edge of the photograph.

“I’m sorry, girl.”

No one answered.

At a little after ten that night, Alice woke coughing.

Elias heard her from the kitchen and hurried down the hallway.

She was sitting up in bed, clutching the blanket.

“Grandpa?”

“I’m here.”

“My chest hurts.”

He sat beside her.

“Can you show me where?”

She placed her small hand against the middle of her chest.

He listened to her breathing.

It sounded fast and uncomfortable.

He helped her sit upright and offered a little water.

She took a sip.

Then she began coughing again.

A wave of fear moved through him.

He remembered the clinic instructions.

Breathing trouble.

Unusual weakness.

Difficulty staying awake.

He checked her temperature.

It was high again.

He looked at the clock.

10:26 p.m.

He called Ben.

The call went to voicemail.

Ben was likely driving, and Elias knew he would not answer while handling the truck.

He left a message.

“Son, Alice is getting worse.

I’m taking her in to be checked.

I’ll call you when I know something.”

He ended the call.

Then he put on his coat.

There was no more waiting.

No more telling himself morning would come soon enough.

No more hoping the sickness would simply pass.

Alice needed medical help, and Elias was going to find it.

He helped her into the red winter coat he had bought with his savings.

Her fingers moved slowly as she tried to fasten the buttons.

“Here, sweetheart.

Let me.”

She watched his hands.

“Are we going to the doctor again?”

“Yes.”

“Will they make me stay?”

“I don’t know.”

She looked frightened.

He knelt in front of her.

“But I’m coming with you.”

“All the time?”

“As much as they’ll let me.”

She put her arms around his neck.

“I don’t like hospitals.”

“Neither do I.”

“Then why are we going?”

He swallowed.

“Because sometimes we have to go somewhere we don’t like to find somebody who can help us.”

She rested her cheek against his shoulder.

“Okay.”

Elias picked her up.

She was growing heavier every month, but that night she felt small against him.

Too small.

He carried her to the living room and called for a taxi.

The dispatcher warned him that the weather was delaying drivers.

He gave the address of the nearest hospital with an emergency department and said he had a sick child.

Then he waited by the door.

Ten minutes passed.

Alice’s head rested on his shoulder.

He could feel the heat of her forehead through his shirt.

After fifteen minutes, he called again.

There were still delays.

He looked out at the wet street.

His old pickup sat under a streetlamp.

He had not trusted it enough to drive it for weeks.

But he trusted waiting even less.

Elias carried Alice downstairs, settled her carefully in the passenger seat with her seat belt fastened, and climbed behind the wheel.

The engine turned over once.

Then again.

He whispered a prayer.