kept her head glued to the wooden desk in Calypso's room, pen in her hand as she wrote on the piece of paper in front of her.

It was an exercise Dr. Perkins had encouraged, her "homework" before their next session.

"I want you to write down the things that scare you, and the things that don't, and we can compare the lists the next time you come in." Dr. Perkins had requested of the girl. "Writing it out can help you better visualize all of it."

Though Daisy wasn't sure she could possibly fit all of her fears onto one list. Daisy had far too many things that scared her in life, there was hardly anything she wasn't afraid of.

Daisy supposed she could argue that she was scared of every single thing, and she decided to just focus on the most pressing fears in her life.

The girl underlined the title of her list, making bullet points underneath for each fear that pressed so harshly against her brain.

Points of fear:

• Bacteria

• Sweat

• Blood

• Death

• People (Mr. Walter)

• Red dinner plates

• Mark leaving

• August dying

• Never getting better

Daisy started a new list directly below the one she had written out, trying to wrack her brain to come up with things that didn't scare her.

Points of safety;

• Fifteen

• Blue sweaters

• People (Mark, Callie, Arizona, August)

Daisy's pen stilled. She tried to come up with more, but she couldn't. Daisy couldn't think of anything else that she wasn't afraid of, and she was disappointed that her fears outnumbered her vessels of safety by three times as much.

Daisy was incredibly discouraged by her cowardice, scowling as she folded her paper up into as many tiny squares as possible. She thought the writing exercise was incredibly stupid, and she sort of thought Dr. Perkins was stupid for making her do it in the first place.

Mark appeared in the doorway of Calypso's room, clearly having come to talk to Daisy, but stopping when he saw the girl sat folding a paper over and over and over.

"What are you doing?"

"Homework." Daisy explained, the girl not technically lying. It was her psychiatric homework. It would be far too embarrassing to admit to Mark that she had to write out a whole list of things she was afraid of. It was tenfold embarrassing that her fears outnumbered the things she wasn't afraid of.

"Are you supposed to be doing origami with your homework?" Mark questioned, fairly certain no teacher wanted to have to unfold a homework assignment ten times just to read it.

Daisy let out a drawled sigh, pushing her paper to the side as she kept her head rested against the cool wooden desk. "What do you want?"

"Sorry?"

"You came in here because you want something. Or you want to ask me something, or you want to give me one of those pep talks that never work. I'm just asking which it is."

Mark picked up on the edge in Daisy's voice, the slight snap in her tone. "I sort of feel like you're upset with me."

"I'm not upset with you, I'm just upset in general. Do I have to be happy all the time?"

Mark frowned as he noted that Daisy was definitely upset with him, thinking for a moment before speaking up. "Is this because I said you're not allowed to see your boyfriend?"

Daisy snapped her eyes sharply over to Mark at the "boyfriend" comment that peeved her more than anything. She felt like Mark was teasing her, and that made her frustrated.

"That was mean. And now I'm not happy with you because, because...you're mean. You're a mean person."

"Come on, I'm kidding." Mark grinned, but Daisy found no humor in his statement.

The girl kept her head down on the desk, letting out a faint groan as she shut her eyes. Daisy was having a bad day, and she wasn't sure why. She just didn't feel happy, and she wanted to sulk alone in Calypso's room.

Calypso's room had become one of her biggest points of safety. Daisy made a mental note to add that to her list when she got the chance.

It was so nice to sit alone in the girl's room and think about things, comforted by all of Caly's belongings and tiny stuffed animals. Mark standing in the doorway nagging Daisy sort of defeated the purpose of the girl being alone to reflect on everything.

"I made breakfast." Mark spoke up. "If you want to eat."

"No."

"You really need to eat." Mark pressed further. He didn't want to be too firm with her, but the girl had to get better about consuming food. "You can't keep skipping meals."

Daisy ignored Mark, keeping her head down on the desk. She had no problem skipping meals, and she intended to do just that.

"Just come eat for a minute, Daisy. Okay?"

Daisy continued to remain silent, and Mark felt seriously defeated.

The man turned his gaze down the hall when he heard the front door open, met with the sight of Callie approaching. Mark frowned, and Callie picked up on his despair.

"What's wrong?"

Mark said nothing, turning his attention back to the girl slumped down against the wooden desk.

Callie reached Calypso's doorframe, her eyes too falling on Daisy.

"She won't eat."

"Tell her to eat, then."

"I did." Mark let out a faint sigh. "She won't."

Callie frowned, her hard gaze set on the girl with her head down. "Go eat breakfast, Daisy."

Naturally, Daisy ignored the woman, keeping her head down as she blocked out any words.

"Daisy."

The firmness in Callie's tone was enough to spook Daisy into glancing up, the woman looking expectant with her eyebrows raised. "Go eat."

"But...I don't want to-"

"Go eat."

Daisy frowned, the corners of her lips turning as her eyebrows furrowed. Daisy wanted to spend her time sulking as opposed to eating, but Callie seemed unwavering in her words. Daisy didn't want to upset Callie, so the girl hesitantly stood from the chair, moving past the pair in the doorway to obtain food from the kitchen.

"See, that? That hurt my feelings." Mark commented, offended that Daisy had gotten up to eat for Callie as opposed to when he had asked. "It's like she doesn't hear anything I say anymore."

"Because you're coddling her. Quit coddling her, put your foot down."

Mark hesitated, glancing down the hall to make sure Daisy wasn't near before speaking in a quieter tone. "She'll cry if I do that. I don't want to make her cry."

Callie let out a sigh. "Daisy is not going to cry if you're firm with her sometimes."

But Mark thought that Callie seriously underestimated the girl's emotions.

Daisy cried so often since the passing of her sister, and the activity wasn't one that Mark enjoyed watching Daisy partake in. Her sadness always spread and made him sad, and he wanted to take any efforts to keep Daisy's crying to a minimum. He wanted the girl to feel as happy as she possibly could, despite how hard happiness was for Daisy to achieve.

Mark figured that arguing with Callie about Daisy's emotional capacity wouldn't provoke anything beneficial, the man deciding it best to thumb off to a different topic as he noted the bottle of detergent Callie held in her hands.

"Okay, this is sort of getting out of hand. I promise I know how to do a cycle of laundry." Mark let out a sigh, referring to the fact that Callie had been doing all of his house work since Calypso passed. It was a nice gesture, genuinely, but it made Mark feel guilty that Callie was putting in so much work while he did nothing.

"I promised I would help for a little while. Just let me help." Callie spoke gently as she smiled. "Besides, you've got the big fish to fry, like coping and...dealing with the teenager. I'd rather do laundry than deal with the teenager, linens don't talk back."

"You sure? You seem better at the parenting thing than I am." Mark mumbled, Callie trying her best to hold in an eye roll.

"My God, Mark, quit sulking. You're doing great, okay?" Callie spoke in a firm tone, not allowing Mark the chance to speak up and disagree. "Okay, good. Perfect. I brought lavender detergent, I hope that's okay."

"Lavender?" Mark's tone was distasteful, as if lavender-scented laundry detergent was the worst possible thing Callie could have subjected him to. "I don't need to be walking around smelling like a flower field."

Callie tilted her head slightly the right, looking thoughtfully over Mark. "I would argue that's exactly what you need in your life."

Mark let out a groan, watching the woman walk away from him as she approached his laundry room. "Callie."

"Go talk to the teenager. Let me do my laundry."

My laundry, Mark wanted to correct, frowning as Callie disappeared from his sight through the door down the hall.

The man walked the opposite direction down the hall, met with the sight of Daisy sat to the counter, her head down like it had been when she was in Calypso's room.

Daisy's hand rested on the countertop beside her, the girl tracing letters into the cold marble.

Mark took note of the fact that Daisy hadn't actually made a move to eat any breakfast, the girl tracing her finger over the surface of the counter again and again in loops.

He noted Daisy hadn't taken any of her medication for the day either, and he made a point to bring the few small bottles over to her.

"Take your meds, Dais."

Daisy only continued to trace letters into the marble, speaking up before Mark had the chance to tell her again to take her medications.

"My name has two vowels in it." Daisy spoke up, in the middle of figuratively burning Daisy into the marble. "And Calypso has two vowels too. Or...three, I guess, if you count Violet. She has two and three vowels. That's kind of cool."

Mark still felt as though Daisy's sudden sadness was a result of his doing, and the man frowned. "I really hope you're not upset with me because I said you couldn't see your friend."

Daisy frowned, remaining silent for a moment before speaking up as her hand continued to move. "August has three vowels in his name."

"Just looking out for you, Dais. I'm not trying to be mean. It's good for you in the long run."

Daisy figured Arizona hadn't snitched on her yet, or else Mark wouldn't be nearly as calm and collected. He would be angry at Daisy, and Daisy didn't want that.

Daisy also didn't want to stop seeing August. She liked seeing August.

"I know." Daisy mumbled out, continuing to trace names. "Mark only has one vowel, so..."

"So that makes me the lamest, then, right?" Mark guessed, Daisy only smiling as she neither confirmed nor denied her thoughts.

Vowels were everything. Daisy liked vowels, she decided. She liked how they made up every word, she liked how crucial they were to the English language.

Daisy thought it was cool that August's name had three vowels. She decided she'd point that out later when she went to visit him—unbeknownst to Mark.

• • • •

"Hi, Auggie." Daisy spoke quietly upon entering the boy's room, taking note of how dark it was. The lights were off, the blinds shut as the faintest stream of sunlight fought its way in through the glass pane of the window.

"I brought a book for you today." Daisy sheepishly made her way over to the side of the bed. "From my school's library. It's about all the different moves you can make in chess. Different strategies and tactics and..."

Daisy's voice faltered as she took note of August's unresponsiveness. The boy only blinked as Daisy spoke, and Daisy wasn't used to being the talkative one. August always spoke first, and he was being quiet.

"Are you okay?"

"Really tired." August's voice came out strained, the boy closing his eyes.

Daisy frowned at that, hoping she hadn't woken August up from a nap. "I'm sorry. I can leave, if you want to sleep, and I can come back later and then-"

"You can stay." August spoke. "I want you to stay. You have to do all the talking, though, because my throat hurts."

"Okay." Daisy nodded slowly, taking a seat in her chair. "Okay. I can talk."

Daisy just wasn't used to doing all the talking, though. She was used to quietly contributing while somebody else carried the conversation. Daisy wasn't really sure what to talk about, or how to keep a conversation alive without letting things awkwardly die out.

"This book isn't due for another two weeks." Daisy spoke up as the cool hardcover rested against her fingertips. "I can leave it for you to read. Just...you know, don't lose it, because they make you pay a fee if you lose it."

August slowly shook his head, and Daisy frowned. August liked reading, Daisy wasn't sure why August didn't want to borrow her book.

"I can't keep my eyes open for longer than two seconds. Everything's sensitive." August explained, and Daisy figured that was the reason all of the lights had been turned off.

Daisy took note of the way August winced at the end of his speaking, the boy clearly in some sort of pain. August glanced over at the pitcher on his nightstand through squinted eyes, and Daisy picked up on his silent request as she took the plastic pink pitcher of water in her hands, pouring it into a matching cup of the same dull pink shade.

August hastily accepted the water, drinking it quickly as he shut his eyes tightly.

"I'm dying." August pulled the cup from his lips as he let out a desperate sort of gasp, like he was coming up to the surface after holding his head underwater.

Daisy knew that information, of course, but hearing it spoken still made her upset. A frown settled on Daisy's lips as August continued his rambling.

"Fast, I'm...I'm dying faster than I thought." August breathed out, his eyes still shut tightly. "I mean...I guess not faster than I thought, because I was supposed to die months ago, and I told myself I wasn't scared to die because when you get used to an idea for so long it becomes normal and not scary but it is scary. I'm scared to die. I don't want to die."

Daisy's natural human instinct was to say I'm sorry, because that was the brain's autopilot response when people got all sad and dark.

But Daisy knew how useless I'm sorry was. People had uttered the word countless times after Calypso had died, and Daisy just didn't understand it.

Why were they apologizing for something they couldn't control?

Daisy didn't quite know what to say. She knew she was supposed to be doing the talking, but despite August's aching throat, he seemed to have a lot in his head that he desperately needed to let out. Daisy found herself playing the familiar role of listener as August nervously rambled on and on, snowballing as he wasn't able to find an end.

"I used to be religious. And my mom and I used to go to church and stuff but...now I'm scared, you know? What if I just disappear and it's all over, and there's nothing left and...and then it's all just gone."

Daisy didn't like death; she didn't think death was very fair. Daisy wished death would just leave her people alone.

The girl tried to rack her brain of something to say. August reminded her of herself in the way that she spiraled out of control when she was nervous, and she knew feeling like that was heavy.

"I don't know a lot about that stuff. But...it's nice to imagine there's something anyway. Like for me, my parents are always still sitting at the kitchen table. And my sister's there too eating breakfast, and they all keep talking and Calypso doesn't stop smiling. And it's sunny too, it's never ever raining."

Daisy stopped her speech to let a tiny smile take on her lips.

"I don't know where they are. They could be on a beach, or in some secret paradise, or maybe just Arizona. Which is...sort of funny, because Arizona is not heaven. But I always think they're happy wherever they are. And...they're always at the kitchen table when I picture it, because eating breakfast in the mornings together was something we used to do every day."

August's entire body radiated with pain, and the boy tried his best to manage a smile, a sideways sort of line that he could barely press his lips into.

"My mom used to bake. Like actually bake, her birthday cakes were insane. She liked baking."

"Maybe she's baking, then." Daisy spoke softly, her smile resembling August's weak one. "I think everyone's heaven is different. Like...if I had a heaven, there would just be fifteens plastered everywhere, and everyone would wear blue sweaters all the time. People would always have their shoes tied, too. It drives me crazy when people don't have their shoes tied."

"That sounds sort of like a cult." August let out a quiet laugh, a sound that started out humorous and quickly ended on a sour note. The laugh turned into a pained wheeze as August let out a low cough, air desperately trying to scratch its way out of the boy's lungs.

I'm sorry pressed against Daisy's brain again. She wasn't sure why she felt the urge to say it, but it wasn't fair that August had to slowly suffer in pain. Daisy didn't think it was fair that some people got to live until ninety-nine, and August would die two months before he turned fifteen.

"God." August let out the pained word when his coughing fit came to an end, laying back and keeping his eyes clamped tightly shut.

Daisy had a feeling August wouldn't be up for playing chess anymore, and their future visits would only consist of sitting in silence while the sick boy writhed in pain. Daisy would have to continue watching August suffer in silence as she resisted the urge to apologize for all of his torment.