Although she can't yet, Mathilde refuses to stay on bed and insists to be up. This, of course, has a negative impact on Jeanne, who became pretty much the new boss in the house.

"I had enough of that while I was in that dumb hospital! I want to be able at least to sit on my chair and knit!"

"Nonsense! Nonsense!" Jeanne shouts at her, hands poised at her hips, standing straight and ready to scold. I leave them to it and walk to the kitchen. "Your leg is still healing so you can't be up!"

"Cynthia! Say something to this little brat!"

"You don't get to call me that when I'm right, Granny!"

"The nerve of this kid!"

I'm cooking lunch, but I can hear their quarrel clearly from the kitchen, and it's hard to keep my laugh from reaching them.

"All right. You can stay there if you want, but only there!" Jeanne bosses Mathilde around like she would a puppy. "I'm going to help Mom in the kitchen and cook you a lot of veggies."

"Please! Have mercy on your old, legless Granny! Don't you think I had enough of those filthy vegetables while I was held hostage in that filthy hospital?"

But Jeanne left her speaking alone and is already to my right.

"I don't know what's wrong with her." She says, crossing her arms on the counter and resting her chin on top. She looks worried.

"What do you mean, sweetie?"

"Does she look any better to you?" Her concern is real, tangible in her frown and her voice. God knows what's in her mind right now.

"Well... She went through surgery, her left leg was removed, and she spent a few days lying down in a hospital bed. She obviously can't look as if she just walked out of a beauty parlor, can she?"

"You don't get it, either." She sounds exasperated all of a sudden, and sighs heavily. "Are you sure she's good now? She's thinner than when we met her, and her eyes are saggy now."

"Well. We need to visit the doctor in a few days. I'll make sure to ask her so you can be sure, dear. Just don't worry, all right? Granny will be just fine."

But she didn't look convinced at all. Worry was all over her face, in her pinched brows, the same way Mathilde herself does, and also in the way her mouth took a while that day to curve upwards again into a smile.

Have you ever heard how kids usually see things we adults can't? How their eyes work on a different way, perhaps reading things we forgot when we grew up? Or perhaps it's not in their eyes, and it's the way they empathize with others. Some sort of sixth sense, perhaps? It's a mystery how they do it, but my little Jeanne isn't an exception. That's why a PET scan reveals that Mathilde's osteosarcoma had time to spread before her leg was cut, one month later.

They were too late.

We all were.

And even though Jeanne takes care of Mathilde and feeds her all kinds ofveggies every day, she's not getting any better. And even though she trieschemo and follows the treatment without a single complaint, we quickly realizethat her time is running short.