Chapter 5
“Chloe, your mother told me she started drinking when you were still a child. She found out about the pregnancy late, and even while pregnant, she didn’t stop.”
“Yes, doctor, that’s right.”
“Has Elena ever experienced any pain, loss of appetite, vomiting, or other unusual symptoms?”
“When she was three, she turned very yellow with a swollen belly. My mother took her to the doctor. He prescribed some medications, and after that she got better. He said it was hepatitis.”
“Yes. Because your mother drank heavily during pregnancy, Elena developed hepatitis. She received treatment, but it wasn’t enough, and it progressed to cancer.”
I can’t hold back the tears anymore. My little sister... this can’t be happening. My God...
“Wait! No, it can’t be. She’s just a child... I’ve already lost my mother, I don’t want to...” I can’t finish the sentence. The word “lose” still causes me so much pain.
“Take it easy! Fortunately, it’s at an early stage. We’ll start treatment as soon as possible and see how she responds. If necessary, we’ll move forward with a transplant.”
“Can we start this treatment today, right now?”
“We’ll need to schedule it first, so she can begin hepatic intra-arterial chemotherapy[4]. It has fewer side effects and produces some of the best results.”
“But doctor, does she still have to wait? If I pay, can she be seen sooner?”
“First, let me check when she can start. In cases like this, scheduling is quick. Just wait a moment, please.”
I watch him leave. Mr. Julio looks at me with sadness in his eyes and tries to comfort me:
“It’s going to work out, my dear. We have to have faith! If there isn’t an opening here soon, we’ll take her to another hospital, even if we have to pay more.”
“I don’t have money for that, Mr. Julio. I could drop out of college and pick up more hours at the café—that’s the only way I’d be able to pay.”
“Don’t worry about that, we’ll figure it out. And you’re not dropping out of college.”
“We managed to schedule it for next week,” Dr. Jullian says as he enters, already bringing great news. “On Monday at five p.m., you can bring her in to start. The process takes a while, so come prepared.”
“Thank you, doctor!” I say with tears in my eyes. “I’ll do everything right. I want to get tested too, so I’ll know if I’m a match for donation.”
“Let’s focus on her chemotherapy first and monitor her progress with tests. If there’s no improvement, then we’ll start the compatibility tests. I’m going to prescribe some medications for pain and nausea.”
I take the prescription from him and we head straight from the hospital to the pharmacy. I buy all the medications and we leave. When we get home, I help her with her bath and lay her down on the couch. While she rests, I prepare a vegetable soup.
“I’m going to take care of you, my love. I’ll do everything I can to see you well again. Don’t worry!”
“I don’t want to leave you alone, sis,” she says in a weak voice.
“And you won’t, sweetheart! We still have so many things to do together. Now it’s just the two of us, so we have to do everything we can to keep it that way. I love you, my little one, and I’ll fight for you.”
“Thank you for taking such good care of me, sis. I love you too.”
I give her a tight hug. I need to be strong now, even stronger than I already am, so she can draw strength from me and stay confident that everything will work out.
“Now let’s eat. You need to get your strength up.”
I help her with the soup. Since it’s light, she eats it all. That makes me happy. I give her the nausea medication and the pain medication, then take her to bed with me.
The long-awaited Monday arrives. I leave work a little early and go straight to the hospital, anxious to be with my sister.
When I arrive, I find her sitting next to Mrs. Nora, waiting for me.
We go in together for the procedure. I can feel the anxiety radiating from her, since this will be her first chemotherapy session.
The nurses are extremely caring and attentive, treating the patients with kindness, which brings me some comfort.
When the procedure begins, I realize it’s not easy for the patients, but we’re there to offer support and strength.
That’s how it went with little Elena. I stayed by her side the entire time, helping her with everything she needed until the procedure was over. She felt very unwell, which, according to the doctors, is completely normal. And at that moment, our fight began—another one we’re determined to win.
Finally, we reach the fourth chemotherapy session, and we closely monitor her progress with the tests.
Each day is a struggle, but we’re winning.
She’s already shown a small improvement, which is a huge victory for all of us.
I’m trying to work more and save money for any emergency, or in case a transplant becomes necessary.
Next week is my birthday. We’ll celebrate at our house. Elena can’t be around other people—her immunity has dropped significantly. That’s why it’s even more important for her to rest and stay home.
I always take the proper precautions to avoid bringing any viruses home.
I’ve had to be twice as careful, especially with patients in her condition.
But the important thing is that she’s doing very well and responding perfectly to the tests and sessions.
This is a great reason to be thankful every day for her gradual improvement.
We got word at the university that they'd be selecting the best students from the business administration program to work at an investment firm. I've always been the top student in my class, so I'm really hoping to be chosen and ace the test.
The director enters the room and starts calling out the names of those selected. I'm on edge until I hear mine—I can't believe it. We follow him into an empty room, where two professors start handing out the tests.
First I skim through it, then I dive in. The test isn't that difficult; I end up spending half an hour on it. I stand up and hand it to the professor, who asks me to sit on the other side of the room. He reviews it and gives me an okay sign with his finger.
Once all the students finish their tests, they separate those with the highest scores. Thank God, a friend from class and I came out on top. Now we have to interview with the president of the financial firm, who's waiting for us in the director's office. I'm a bundle of nerves.
Through some combination of luck and nerves, I'm the first to be called.
I hope he doesn't notice how much I'm sweating from anxiety.
I enter the room and the man is sitting with his back to the door, admiring the view through the glass window that offers a panoramic view of the city.
When he turns around, it's as if I'm standing before a Greek deity.
Or rather, he's a true god from Olympus!
My goodness! My thoughts scatter and I freeze, because I've never seen anyone so stunningly handsome.
I've seen plenty of attractive men, but none compare to him.
His blue eyes, almost identical to mine, convey a sense of power; his brown hair and the light stubble on his face make him even more imposing.
The impeccable black suit highlights his presence, practically radiating wealth and beauty.
I feel a strange heat rising through my body.
When I snap out of my trance, I notice he's looking me over from head to toe, sizing me up.
He probably thinks I'm an idiot for being so fascinated by him.
I'm wearing jeans and a button-up shirt, with my hair pulled back in a ponytail. Since I started pole dancing, my body has become stronger and curvier. He continues sizing me up, so I decide to pull myself together and put an end to it:
“Good morning, sir! May I sit down? Or are we doing this interview with me standing?”
He gives a half-smile and locks his eyes on mine.
“Please! Forgive me!” He gestures toward the chair in front of him. “Have a seat, Miss...” he glances at my name on the test in his hands, “Chloe Brooks.”
I return his smile and sit down across from him, holding his gaze as I wait for him to start the interview. The anticipation is already killing me, even before it begins. I've never been so affected by a man before, and it makes me a little uncomfortable.