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Mom never goes out early unless… A twinge jabbed Riley’s stomach. Not again. “Were you at the hospital? Why didn’t you call me? You shouldn’t be on public transit!”

Casey leaned in. “Hospital?”

Riley offered a shivery frown.

“I didn’t call because you have early class this morning. Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be there now—?”

She stepped on her mother’s question. “Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine. I felt a little short of breath after dinner, so I went to the ER.”

“What? You were there overnight? If you went willingly, it had to be more than ‘a little’. I had to drag you in January.”

“Riley, stop worrying. Last night was like January. The symptoms were the same, the diagnosis was the same, and the treatment, same—a blood transfusion.”

“A blood transfusion isn’t like slapping on a Band-Aid, Mom.”

Casey popped above his scarf. “Transfusion? Again?” he mouthed.

“I feel much better.” A giddiness lifted her words. “Maybe I’m half-vampire—I do love Twilight!”

“Not funny!” Riley sniffed, her eyes and nose watering from the chill. “If you can’t breathe every time your red blood cell count drops after chemo, they’ll postpone your treatments again.”

“They’ll only postpone if my numbers don’t improve. As of 6:30 this morning, my count was climbing and I was breathing normally.”

“Yeah, after sitting there for hours—on your own.”

“I was fine, sweetheart! I had my book and chatted with a little girl who kept popping through the curtain. Her grandma apologized, but I didn’t mind. She was so cute, dragging around a stuffed dog by the ear, asking if she could be a blood donut.”

“A what?” Riley squinted, trying to hear her mom over the howling wind and an open-top tour bus—devoid of passengers—chugging south on Broadway.

“She was calling a blood donor a ‘blood donut’. She reminded me of you at that age—inquisitive, wanting to help, dragging Puffin everywhere. You loved that stuffed toy so much—still do!” A smile lifted her words. “Anyway, I feel much better now, so I’m going to enjoy my toast, binge-watch something happy, and cocoon under my blanket.”

“I wish you would’ve called me. I could’ve kept you company.” Riley blinked away the snowflakes collecting in her eyelashes and glanced around the fake fur on her hood.

Casey nodded.

“Riley, it would’ve been pointless to drag you out of bed. If it had been serious, I would’ve called you, promise—and before you ask, I didn’t take the bus. A neighbor drove me and a hospital volunteer brought me home. See? Nothing to worry about.”

“Still…” Riley sighed as they crossed Waverly Place, school only steps away.

“Sweetie, I’m fine. I’m home, and Netflix is calling.”

Above the entrance to Tisch, the purple NYU banner snapped and flailed, threatening to break free. Casey tugged the door open and gestured for Riley to enter first. “If anything changes, text me. I’m working later, but you can still call.”

“Will do. Now, I’m hanging up and you’re going to class. Bye!”

Riley tossed her hood off in frustration.

“Your mom’s always been super sweet to me. I hate that she’s going through this again.” Casey showed his NYU card to the security guard. “Is she doing okay?”

Riley dug out her ID and flashed it. “I guess, but I don’t think she’s telling me everything.”

“Being vague about bad stuff is in the parenting manual.”

“Don’t they realize that makes us worry more, not less? The unknown is scarier than reality. I’m not twelve—I can handle what’s really going on.”

Casey lowered his voice. “Remember when I told you my dad got laid off, a few years back?”