“The specialist says she’s making progress,” Travis would report after each session. “But she needs more intensive treatment. There’s this new therapy that could really help, but it’s expensive.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll handle it. I’m there… for her,” I’d offer. By the end of the year, I’d given him $85,000. My dream of opening a bakery died with each transfer, but I told myself nothing mattered more than helping a child walk again.
“How’s she doing? I want to talk to her,” I said during our brief encounter at the park one day.
“Better! She’s embarrassed about the limp and doesn’t want people to see her struggle.”
I nodded but something didn’t add up. Every time I saw Lily, she seemed fine. Maybe a slight limp, but she was running around, climbing playground equipment, and laughing with the other kids.
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