Evan sat down.
For several seconds, he couldn’t speak.
Finally, he pulled a folder from his medical bag.
He placed it on the table.
Inside were medical reports.
Neurology reports.
Sleep-study results.
Blood work.
And a document from an insurance company.
I looked at him.
“What is this?”
He took a deep breath.
“Emma has been having nocturnal seizures.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“The episodes you’ve been calling nightmares aren’t nightmares.”
I couldn’t speak.
He continued.
“They started months ago. I noticed the first one before you did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wasn’t certain at first.”
He opened another report.
“She had an episode during the night. I recorded the timing. Then I spoke with a neurologist.”
I looked at the dates.
They went back months.
“You’ve known this long?”
“Yes.”
My voice broke.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was trying to confirm it before terrifying you.”
I pushed the papers away.
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked.
“I know, Carrie.”
Then he told me something I hadn’t expected.
The hospital had offered to help with the specialist.
But the testing wasn’t fully covered by our insurance.
Some of the procedures required authorization.
And the specialist Evan wanted was several hours away.
“I’ve been paying for some of it myself,” he said.
I stared at him.
“How much?”
He looked down.
“Almost eighteen thousand dollars.”
My mouth fell open.
“Evan…”
“I didn’t want you to worry about money while we were dealing with Emma.”
I felt tears burning my eyes.
“You let me think you were hiding something terrible.”
“I was hiding something.”
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