Childhood leukemia, they said. Just a bad draw of the cards.

The white blood cells inside her, designed to protect her from harm, instead began attacking her, rotting her from the inside out. Her mother and I, also designed to protect her, could do nothing but watch as she slowly wasted away.

We named her Viv, short for Vivienne, French for alive. Defiant. But, ultimately, not prophetic of her fate.

We buried Viv on her fifth birthday.

After five years of constant heartbreak, our friends and family hoped we would feel some relief when she finally passed. Instead, the heartbreak continued, as omnipresent and suffocating as ever.

We hosted seances, burned incense, used Ouija boards… Anything to try to keep her, or some small part of her, alive. It was all a waste of time, really, and we knew that. But we never gave up.

Until one morning, getting out of the shower, I noticed something drawn in the steam on the bathroom mirror: ♡.

I assumed my wife had left it for me, but when I entered the bedroom, I found her fast asleep. I kept the image to myself for the time being, assuming I’d dreamt it.

But then I began to see it elsewhere.

♡. Drawn in the fresh-fallen snow, with no footprints anywhere nearby.

♡. Written in ballpoint pen on a new yellow legal pad I’d just unwrapped from the plastic.

♡. Arranged in string beans on top of the meatloaf in my microwave dinner.

Viv had died before we’d properly taught her to write. But she knew what that symbol meant. Love.

I took it to mean many things. That she was safe. That she was happy. That she was still with us.

Finally, I gathered the courage to tell my wife. She didn’t take it well.

It began with disbelief. Then anger.

I showed her pictures I’d taken of the symbols, but of course, there was no proof of where they’d come from. I could have drawn them myself, she said. She became certain that I was toying with her emotions. I understood how she felt – she didn’t want to get her hopes up, and have them be crushed.

It didn’t stop me from yelling back at her. It didn’t stop me from throwing the dinner plate at the wall.

She stormed out of the house, and I didn’t stop her from going. It was then that I felt it. Shortness of breath. Numbness in my left arm. A sharp pain in my chest. I collapsed to the floor, realizing my mistake.

♡.

Viv hadn't been saying she loved me.

Viv had been trying to warn me.