Two days before Connor’s surgery, they took me to the hospital for a blood draw.
Mom and Dad were in Connor’s room, keeping him company during his pre-op tests.
I was in another building, with only Nurse Amy.
Nurse Amy asked the lab nurse if they could take less. I was still in a cast.
The lab nurse said. “This is the amount Dr. Patel ordered.”
I held out my arm. I didn’t cry.
Halfway through, the room started spinning.
“Maybe that’s enough. He’s just a kid.”
Dad had appeared in the doorway. He asked. “Take a little more. Connor’s surgery is major. We need extra blood just in case.”
Then I didn’t know anything else.
When I woke up, it was dark. Only the bedside lamp was on. Connor sat on the edge of my bed, swinging his legs.
“Thanks for your blood, Leo.”
I said nothing.
He leaned closer and lowered his voice.
“Oh, Leo, I forgot to tell you something.”
“Don’t blame Dad. That day, you and Biscuit were at the top of the stairs. Biscuit barked at you, and that’s why you fell.”
“Dad was standing right there. He saw everything.”
I froze. Dad told me he didn’t see how I fell.
“Dad struggled with it for a long time.”
Connor’s voice was soft and sweet.
“He said Biscuit was so small. If he got scared and fell down the stairs, he’d die.”
“You’re bigger. A fall won’t kill you.”
So that was it. He’d chosen the dog.
I didn’t say a word. Just turned my head and stared up at the ceiling. The tears didn’t come.
Connor’s surgery was a success.
Mom and Dad finally remembered there was still a me in the hospital.
They took me home. Dad bought the full LEGO set and piled it at my bedroom door.
Mom made me beef stew every day, trying to get my iron up.
That night, Mom poured me a bowl of soup. Dad sat beside me and watched me drink.
“Leo, after Connor’s summer break is over, we’re sending him back.”
“You will always be our only, precious son.”
I looked down and drank my soup.
“Okay.”
The next afternoon, Mom and Dad went out to buy Connor new clothes for when he left the hospital.
Aunt Claire’s car was parked downstairs.
I went to my room and pulled out the small suitcase I’d already packed.
The suitcase wasn’t heavy. I didn’t have much. After thinking about it, I took the family photo out.
In the evening, Mom and Dad came home with bags and bags.
Flowers and balloons for Connor. LEGO and iron pills for me.
They called my name. No one answered.
Mom saw the papers on the coffee table. Her hand went slack, and the balloons floated up to the ceiling.
Dad called like a madman. My smartwatch was off.
Mom collapsed on the floor, asking over and over. “Where’s Leo? Where’s my Leo?”
Dad stood in front of the family photo for a long, long time.
The summer wasn’t over yet.
They had already lost me.