Lauren was tied to a metal chair ten feet behind him, one side of her face bruised, wrists red where plastic ties cut into the skin. He stood in the middle of Room 7 holding Sophie’s drawing in one hand and looked at her. Just a navy overcoat, polished shoes and the calm expression of a respected physician who expected people to trust him. Uncle Dean came when you were getting coffee last Tuesday. He thought I was asleep. He was on the phone outside my room. Security sealed the pediatric oncology entrance within two minutes.