I rip my hand away from the glass, standing up abruptly and yelling towards the kitchen. “Marya is here.”

Mum looks up quickly, her face flushed and annoyed. “Alyssa, I already told you this isn’t going to work. Not after what happened yesterday.” She throws down the towel and walks briskly towards me, placing a tight hand on my shoulder. “I need to know that you’re safe.”

I stare out the window and see the car door open, and I turn back to Mum with my hands clenched tightly together. “Mum, I’m not a little kid. I just want to have lunch with my friend. Just one meal, Mum.”

Her eyes narrow, and she looks torn, but a shrill ringing pierces the air before she can continue. She grabs my hand, runs towards towards the door, her face twisted in doubt and fear. But she just opens the door, immediately gasping and leaping away from the door.

My hand flies to my heart, and I find myself recoiling in horror, clutching Mum’s hand tightly for support. I stare at Marya, stunned, unable to tear my eyes away from her shiny, hairless scalp. Marya doesn't move, staring at my unflinchingly with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Good morning, Miss Gray. Hello, Lyssy.” That's the first time I've heard her talk to Mum so formally. But I can barely focus on her words, all I can see is Marya’s beautiful auburn locks falling to the ground, her beauty thrown away.

And it's all because of me.

“Marya, what have you done?” I whisper, pulling towards her and shaking my head in stunned disbelief. I put my hands on my own bald scalp and struggle to take in deep breaths. Her eyes soften, and she stares at me a long time, opening her mouth slowly to reply and then closing it again.

“I did it for you, Lyssy,” she says gently, and a flash of anger knocks me backwards. I never wanted this to happen, never wanted the cancer to shatter her life like it has mine. I wanted her to be beautiful, loved, admired, like I was supposed to be. This should never have been how it was supposed to be.

“Marya,” I plead, and Mum’s arm tightens around my waist, steadying me. “That’s not the way it works. I know you're trying to be nice, but this isn't going to change anything. It's not going to make anything right.”

Mum takes a step forwards, and at first I think she's angry, but one look at the gentleness in her eyes tells me otherwise. She shakes her head sadly, stretching her hand out and brushing her long fingers against Marya’s scalp. Marya winces, but then swallows and stares at Mum with fear shining in her eyes, and the look on her face makes unbearable misery settle over me like a cloud. I grip Mum’s hand and stare at Marya limply, afraid to break the silence.

“Thank you,” Mum says finally, her voice so quiet I can barely hear it. “For what you’ve done for my daughter.”

Marya pulls away, her eyes glittering with shock. She stares at Mum, her hands dropping limply to her sides and her mouth opening slightly. Her eyes are fixed on Mum, and the look in her eyes makes my breath catch in my throat. She’s not angry anymore.

When Marya finally speaks, her voice is barely a mumble. “We should probably go now, Alyssa.”

I turn back to Mum, burying her in a tight hug. “I promise I’ll be okay,” I whisper in her ear, and then I pull away, straightening my back and forcing myself to turn away from her. “Let’s go,” I say to Marya, following her quickly and silently begging Mum not to protest.

Mum reaches out her hand and looks as if she’s about to touch me, but then she pulls her hand back and shakes her head sadly. “You’ll be back in a couple of hours, right?”

Marya nods abruptly, and grabs my hand, guiding me towards the door. “Of course she will. We’ve already worked this out, Miss Gray. We’ll see ourselves out.” Marya studies me carefully, and the look in her eyes makes my chest ache. I nod and force a smile, anxiety threatening to choke me. I know this isn’t safe, I know this is probably a bad idea. But I’d do anything for one more day with Marya.

And so I don’t pull away from Marya, giving Mum as big a smile as I can before Marya closes the door behind us and leads me towards the car. Her face is confused, and a little torn, but the smile building on her face tells me that she loves me. I slip into the front seat, sighing as the familiar musty smell settles over me.

“It’s going to be a good day, Lyssy,” Marya says warmly, adjusting the audio. “What do you say we put on some music?”

A small smile dances across my face, and Marya sees it and grins wider. “That’d be great,” I say, and country music blares out of the speakers. The sound of it drenches me like ice cold water, making my heart pound and my skin tingle.

I'm still so confused. So hurt. But with the guitar thrumming softly in the background, and Marya singing along, I feel somehow at peace. A dull ache vibrates through my body, and I stare quietly at Marya’s scalp. I can’t accept this. Can’t let her make that kind of sacrifice.

Marya’s loud voice echoes through the car, and I fight to stay focused on her words, to soak in every moment with her. I want to hang on to every word she says, to keep it with me until I’m gone. Every sight, every sound, every smell, every feeling that races through my head.

Marya jerks the car to a stop, and the music ends abruptly. She looks over at me and smiles encouragingly, and I try to block out the stares of the couple parked behind us. Two teenage girls. Neither has hair.

I step out of the car, moving towards Marya and following her towards the large brick building. She presses her lips together and flings open the glass door, holding it open for me and letting me come inside.

Loud, blaring music makes my ears throb, and I look around at the bright lighting, suddenly overwhelmed. She leads me over to a booth in the corner of the restaurant, and fiddles with the menu. “They have good food here, Lyssy, you’ll like it.”

I nod, unsure what to say, and rub my scalp, forcing myself to slowly relax. I wonder what Mum is thinking, if she is as scared as I am. But right here, everything just feels strange, twisted, wrong.

I scan the menu, grabbing Marya’s hand and squeezing it for comfort. She squeezes back, smiling sadly, and leans over to look at my menu. “What do you want to eat?” Her voice is soft, and carefully balanced, and something about it puts me at ease.

“I’m not hungry.” I try to keep my voice light, but she tilts her head, and I know she hears the fear in my voice.

“Is it the chemo?” She wraps both her hands around mine and lowers my head so that she’s looking in my eyes.

“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head without looking away from her eyes. “It’s not the chemo. I’m just not hungry.”

She raises her hand as if to touch her hair, but then drops it back down limply when she realizes that it’s not there. She seems unsure whether or not to argue or encourage me to eat, but she finally just says, “Okay. Will you be upset if I get something, then?”

“No.”

“You’re a strong girl, you know that, Alyssa.” Her voice is firm, decisive, but also tender and soft. She strokes my cheek with her fingers, and a tingle runs through my skin. I just nod, still not breaking away from her gaze.

“Ever since I met you, I was amazed by you, Lyssy. I saw the way your Mum treated you, but the courage it took to continue to keep living.” Tears glitter in her eyes, but she pushes them away and keeps on talking, her eyes fixed on my face. “I saw courage in you, and it made me feel like I could be strong too. But then this happened, and I just had to stand by and watch while everything fell apart for you. Your Mum came to pick you up that night, and I was furious, Lyssy, I couldn’t understand how anyone could be so heartless. But one look in your eyes and I knew you had given up. You weren’t fighting anymore.”

My heart begins to pound within my chest, and I shake my head violently, my cheeks flushing red. I want to protest, want to cry out that she’s wrong, that she doesn’t understand the pain that I’ve gone through. But Marya’s not done talking.

“I tried to come talk to you, to be with you when you were in pain, but you rejected me. I was so desperate, Lyssy. Things were going horribly at home, and without you there to walk me through every step of it, I was wilting. I tried to talk to you, to reason with you, but you called your Mum, and I knew then that you had already let her win.”

“Marya, no.” I pound my fist on the table, tears popping into my eyes. “That’s not it. That’s not what any of this is.” I grab her hand, pulling her towards me and staring at her with my face crumpling in pain. “Marya, you’re right, at first, I was so bitter and so upset. Maybe I still am. I blocked myself off from the world, and you. But things are different now. I promise things are different now.”

She shakes her head slowly, but just stares at me quietly, her cheeks wet with tears. “Different how?”

I shove the tears out of my eyes and shake my head, saying loudly, “Life is worth living now, now that I have Mum and you supporting me through it. I’ve finally realized what it means to treasure every moment with you. And now I can.”

A small smile flickers across her face through her tears, and she leans closer in, never once taking her eyes away from me. “Really?”

I nod, and rummage through the purse slung over my shoulder, fingering the book for a long time before yanking it out and placing it on the table. “Can you show me how to be a christian?”

Her eyes widen, and she smiles, taking the book and placing it on her lap. “You are different,” she says softly, and the tears in her brown eyes seem to sparkle. She looks at me carefully as she replies. “Okay.”