“What is that?” I whispered.
“We weren’t looking for it,” he said. “But the imaging showed something near your kidney.”
My mouth went dry.
“A tumor?”
“We can’t say that yet. We need more tests.”
Within days, I had additional scans, blood tests, and specialist consultations.
I barely slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered Emily’s final days.
She had been fifteen when she died.
Before that, she had always been healthy, energetic, and curious.
Then one afternoon, she began complaining of a terrible headache.
What no one realized at first was that she had an undetected brain condition.
After losing her, I became terrified of hidden illnesses.
Things that could already be there.
Silent.
Growing.
Waiting.
And now the doctors had called Thomas and
