chapter 9
1439 Words
Daisy backed away until the edge of her desk hit her legs.
Her mother was still crying.
Still trying to speak.
But Daisy barely heard her anymore.
One question kept screaming inside her head.
What else don’t I know?
“You should sit down,” her mother whispered.
Daisy laughed weakly. “You think sitting down is the problem right now?”
“Honey, please—”
“Don’t call me that.”
The words slipped out colder than she intended.
Her mother flinched.
For a second, guilt stabbed through Daisy.
But then she remembered the folder hidden under her pillow.
The signatures.
The lies.
And the guilt disappeared.
“Does Dad know I found out?” Daisy asked quietly.
Her mother hesitated.
Too long.
Daisy nodded slowly. “Of course he does.”
“He’s been worried about you.”
“Worried?” She stared in disbelief. “You mean worried I’d discover the truth?”
“That’s not fair.”
“There’s that word again.”
Her mother wiped her tears shakily. “You don’t understand what those years were like.”
“Then tell me.”
Silence.
Daisy folded her arms. “That’s what I thought.”
Her mother looked exhausted now. Like she had been carrying something heavy for years.
Finally, she sat on the chair near Daisy’s window and whispered—
“The hospital made a mistake.”
Daisy’s throat tightened.
“A serious mistake.”
“What mistake?”
Her mother stared at the rain outside.
“There was a treatment trial.”
Daisy frowned immediately. “What?”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen.” “You weren’t supposed to be included.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Daisy’s heartbeat slowed in that dangerous way that came before panic.
“What do you mean included?”
Her mother’s lips trembled.
“They mixed up patient files.”
Daisy stared at her.
No.
No no no.
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I was.”
“What treatment?”
Her mother couldn’t look at her.
“That experimental medication you took after your fever when you were little…”
Daisy’s mind flashed instantly.
The hospital stay.
Age eight.
The blurry memories. Needles. Machines. Doctors whispering.
“You told me it was vitamins.”
Her mother started crying again.
Daisy felt sick.
“You told me I was dehydrated.”
“We didn’t know at first.”
“How long?”
Her mother stayed silent.
Daisy’s voice broke violently.
“HOW LONG DID YOU KNOW?”
“Three months after the treatment.”
Daisy covered her mouth.
Ten years.
Ten entire years.
“You watched me grow up knowing this?” she whispered.
“We hoped the diagnosis was wrong.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“No…”
The answer came out broken.
Daisy felt tears burning her eyes again.
“So this whole thing…”
She pointed weakly toward herself.
“…was because of them?”
Her mother looked down.
And that silence confirmed it.
Daisy suddenly couldn’t breathe properly.
The walls felt too close.
The room spun slightly.
“Daisy—”
“You let them experiment on me.”
“No!”
“You said treatment trial!”
“You were never supposed to receive it!”
“But I did!”
Her voice cracked into a sob.
Downstairs, another door opened suddenly.
Heavy footsteps.
Her father.
“Elaine?” his voice called from downstairs. “What’s happening?”
Her mother stood quickly. “Stay here.”
Daisy stared at her in disbelief.
“Seriously?”
“I need to talk to him first.”
“No.” Daisy shook her head immediately. “No more secret conversations.”
Her father’s footsteps were already coming upstairs.
Fast.
Anxious.
Then he appeared in the hallway.
The moment he saw Daisy crying—
he froze.
And Daisy noticed something terrifying.
He didn’t look confused.
He looked caught.
“Daisy…”
Her father’s voice was barely above a whisper.
But she heard it clearly.
The guilt. The fear. The realization that everything was finally collapsing.
Daisy wiped her tears furiously.
“How long?” she asked.
Her father looked toward her mother.
Wrong move.
“Don’t look at her,” Daisy snapped. “Look at me.”
He slowly did.
And somehow that hurt more.
Because his eyes already carried the answer.
“A long time,” he admitted quietly.
Daisy laughed shakily. “At least somebody’s honest tonight.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Stop calling me that!”
Her voice echoed through the hallway.
Her father flinched slightly.
But this time Daisy didn’t care.
“You lied to me for ten years,” she whispered. “You watched me go to appointments… take medications… cry myself to sleep… and you knew why.”
“We were trying to protect you.”
“That excuse is getting old.”
Her father rubbed a trembling hand over his face.
“You were a child.”
“And now?”
Silence.
“Exactly.”
Her mother stepped forward carefully. “Daisy, please calm down.”
“Calm down?” Daisy stared at her in disbelief. “You just told me my entire life happened because of a hospital mistake!”
“It was more complicated than that.”
Daisy’s eyes narrowed immediately.
“What does that mean?”
Her parents exchanged another look.
Another secret look.
And Daisy felt something inside her snap.
“No.” She shook her head slowly. “No more coded conversations.” “No more half-truths.”
Her father inhaled deeply.
Then he said the words that changed everything again.
“The treatment wasn’t fully approved.”
Daisy froze.
“…What?”
“It was still under review.”
The hallway became painfully silent.
“You mean experimental,” Daisy whispered.
Neither parent answered.
That was answer enough.
Daisy stepped backward slowly.
“Oh my God…”
Her mother started crying again. “We didn’t know.”
“But the doctors did.”
Her father looked away.
That tiny movement terrified her more than anything else tonight.
Daisy’s voice dropped.
“They knew?”
No answer.
“Dad…”
Finally, he nodded once.
Just once.
And Daisy felt her stomach twist violently.
“They knew the risks,” she whispered.
Her father’s silence confirmed it.
The air suddenly felt impossible to breathe.
“You let them do it anyway?”
“No!” her mother cried. “They told us it was safe!”
“But not approved.”
“They said it could save your life!”
Daisy frowned through tears.
“My life from what?”
Another silence.
Another hesitation.
And suddenly Daisy realized something horrifying.
“There’s more,” she whispered.
Neither of them spoke.
“There’s MORE?”
Her father closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them again, he looked years older.
“You weren’t supposed to survive that illness.”
The words hit like thunder.
Daisy stared at him blankly.
“What?”
“At eight years old… your organs started shutting down.”
“No…”
“Yes.”
Her mother was sobbing openly now.
“The doctors said they were running out of options.”
Daisy shook her head over and over.
“That’s impossible.”
“You were unconscious for two days.”
Daisy frowned.
No.
That couldn’t be right.
She remembered the hospital.
But not that.
“You told me I slept because of the medication.”
Her father swallowed hard.
“That wasn’t true.”
The hallway tilted slightly.
Daisy grabbed the wall beside her.
Everything she remembered about her childhood suddenly felt fake.
Broken.
Rewritten.
“You almost died?” she whispered.
Her mother covered her face.
Her father nodded slowly.
“And the treatment saved me?”
Another hesitation.
Another terrible silence.
Then—
“It saved your life,” he admitted.
Daisy blinked.
For one confusing second, relief flickered through her chest.
But then he continued.
“…and destroyed your future.”
The words sliced straight through her.
Tears filled Daisy’s eyes instantly.
Not because she didn’t already know.
But because hearing her own father say it out loud made it real in a completely different way.
Destroyed your future.
Not damaged.
Not changed.
Destroyed.
Daisy looked at both of them standing there in the hallway.
Two people she had trusted more than anyone.
And suddenly she didn’t recognize either of them anymore.
Then her phone buzzed again.
All three of them looked down at it.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
But this time…
a message appeared.
One sentence.
You still haven’t asked the worst question yet.
- Writer
