CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 22: THE BAD NEWS
The call came late at night.
I knew something was wrong immediately.
It was Samantha.
Her voice was shaking.
"The doctors got the results."
I sat upright in bed.
"And?"
Silence.
"It's worse than they thought."
The room suddenly felt cold.
I looked at Ella sleeping beside me.
"How bad?"
"They're starting treatment immediately."
I closed my eyes.
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
Neither of us spoke.
Finally, Samantha whispered:
"I'm scared."
It was the first time I had ever heard her sound like a little girl.
"I'm scared too," I admitted.
We stayed on the phone for almost an hour.
Not talking about medicine.
Not talking about hospitals.
Just talking.
About Mom's terrible cooking.
About family vacations.
About the way she used to sing while cleaning the kitchen.
By the end of the call, we were both crying.
Because suddenly the future looked uncertain.
And when people become uncertain, memories become precious.
The next morning, I took flowers to the hospital.
My mother smiled when she saw them.
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know."
She looked at me carefully.
"You've been saying that a lot lately."
I smiled.
"So have you."
For the first time in months, she laughed.
A real laugh.
It lasted only a few seconds.
But it filled the room.
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And I realized something terrifying.
I wasn't ready to lose her.
