Chapter 3
STELLA
We did our best to make the most of the time we had left, however much that ended up being.
Or however little.
The constant ticking of a clock lingered, tainting any memories we tried to make.
I made Grace’s favorite foods, even though she barely touched them. We watched movies, cuddled up together on the couch.
In quiet moments, Grace lay on the couch, sketching pictures of our life together that I kept neatly in a pile, a constant reminder of maybe one day, that would be the last one I’d add to the stack.
Portraits of the lazy way Archie sprawled out in front of the living-room window.
Pictures of me, cooking in our small kitchen, or sitting at the tiny table, a crease of worry across my forehead.
The ficus that had quickly outgrown its pot, its roots sprawling every which way.
Grace’s self-portraits were my favorite. She didn’t look at herself while she drew them, she just sketched from memory, and because of this, I had dozens of portraits of Grace the way I wanted to remember her. Thoughtful, serene, with eyes full of life.
When she felt well enough, we’d go for walks, strolling down the quiet riverside trail until she grew tired. No matter how many times we walked the trail, I never saw the strange man again.
One night, fueled by a singular glass of wine and desperation, I even opened my computer to search him, as if I’d see his image staring back at me from a series of mug shots for high-profile crime. Of course, it was difficult to stalk someone without a name, so I gave up on my futile mission.
I never told Grace what happened that day I walked the trail alone, as if speaking my experience aloud would make it real.
I still wasn’t sure what to make of it, but I remembered the electricity that pumped through our joined hands, and the unsettling way he looked at me.
It was almost as if he knew things about me I could never put into words.
I didn’t know if I wanted to be able to put them into words.
Some things were better left unspoken. Some things poisoned the air around us, making it hard to focus on anything else.
Right now, Grace needed my focus.
I forced myself to put the stranger out of my mind, and take everything a minute at a time. Moment by moment. Day by day.
Sometimes, late at night while Grace slept, I’d whisper my fears to Archie, certain he wouldn’t tell another soul my secrets.
Worries about being alone. What that would mean for me.
What my life would look like. I’d tell him my biggest insecurities, sobbing into his soft fur, and by the time morning came, I’d be whole once more for my sister.
Grace and I laughed, and cried, and told each other stories of our favorite memories growing up. We did everything except say goodbye.
Every morning, I expected to wake up and find her a little bit weaker, paler. Something to tell me she was reaching the end of her time with me, to tell me it was okay to let her go, even if we wouldn’t admit it.
Instead, I could swear I was seeing the opposite. Grace’s face seemed to have more color in it as the days passed. She went a bit further on the trail than she had the day before. A bit less food was left on the plate.
I told myself I only saw these improvements because I wanted to. According to the doctor, there was no chance for my sister to get better. Life moved on, and before I knew it, the day of Grace’s final scans arrived.
‘Grace! We’re going to be late!’ I stacked my bowl in the sink. The dishes could be a later-me problem. Archie watched me, my ever-present shadow, cleaning his paw from the corner of the kitchen.
‘I’m coming!’ Grace’s voice echoed out of the bathroom as steam followed the opening door. She made her way over to the kitchen, wrapping her arms around my waist. ‘I don’t know if I’m ready.’
I pressed my lips together, forcing the tears away from my eyes. ‘No matter what they tell us, it’s going to be okay. I promise.’
I spun around in her grip, resting my hands on either side of her face as I took her in. The shower left her cheeks flushed, giving her a healthy, youthful glow that had been missing from her face for too long. Her brown eyes were bright, even though they held a world’s worth of sadness.
‘I love you. That doesn’t change, no matter what happens today.’
‘I love you too, Stella. I don’t deserve a sister as good as you.’ She sniffled as tears pooled in those beautiful eyes of hers.
Shaking my head, I smiled. ‘Of course you do. Being completely honest, you probably deserve more than I could ever offer.’ The words rang true, because to me, they were true.
I had done the best I could do for Grace since the fire, and stretched the insurance money as far as I could, but it wasn’t the life she would’ve gotten if my parents were still alive.
Her prom dress came from the thrift store, not a high-end boutique like most of her friends. We managed to make community college work, for the few semesters she was able to attend before she got sick, with a combination of the money and scholarships she earned, but it wasn’t a top-rated college.
We had to make sacrifices to make it work. I did the best I could with what I had, and I hoped it was good enough, but now that I was at the end, it didn’t feel anywhere close to enough.
Doubts ran wild in my mind. I should’ve gotten a second job. I should’ve held out for a bigger insurance payment, instead of taking what they initially offered because we needed the money sooner. I should have done more.
‘Where’d you go?’ Grace whispered, swiping her finger below my eye. I had been crying and didn’t even realize it. ‘Don’t get lost forever in that imaginary world you’re creating.’
Our mom had said those words to me all the time, when I got too wrapped up in my own mind. If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up disappearing completely into my imagination. Hearing Grace repeat them back to me was a bittersweet moment I didn’t know if I wanted to cherish, or mourn.
I pressed a kiss to the top of Grace’s head. ‘Come on. We should get going.’
The drive to the hospital was silent, as was the walk up to the same sterile room we had waited in before. I could close my eyes and find my way around the room blind, we had spent so much time in here.
Every minute we waited felt like a year. Grace clung to my hand so hard, I half-expected to see our skin seared together when I looked down.
‘It’s okay,’ I whispered. ‘It’s going to be okay.’
I repeated these words as if they could offset my internal monologue.
Time is up.
This is it.
Did you do enough?
Was it enough?
Was it worth it?
Dr Murphy flew into the room, folder in hand, a blank look on her face. ‘Good morning. I apologize for the wait.’
‘No worries,’ I said, even though there were, in fact, a lot of worries.
She sat down in her chair and flipped open her files. ‘I know last time we discussed potentially having Grace transfer over to hospice care, and you were hoping for more time.’
‘Yes.’ My heart was going to pound right out of my chest and sit on the floor between the three of us. Maybe that would finally shock the doctor. Probably not, though.
The doctor cleared her throat, a quick crease crossing her forehead as she gazed down at the papers in front of her. ‘Well.’
If every minute had felt like a year while we waited for her appearance, each second now felt like a light year waiting for her to explain the results in her hand. ‘Yes?’
She ran her fingers down the page hidden by the Manila folder, mouth moving without making any sounds.
By now, I was in the next solar system. Now the next galaxy. I couldn’t even be certain Grace was still breathing next to me.
Finally, Dr Murphy closed the folder and looked up at us with that same smile she wore the entire last appointment. ‘It seems there’s been a change of plan.’
My heart sank deep into my stomach. Grace had gotten worse. There was no point in even going to hospice; the doctor was going to admit her right here, right now. This was it.
‘Grace’s last scans showed no evidence of disease. Unexpected, but true.’
I blinked, and my hand felt lighter as Grace dropped my grip. No evidence of disease. Did that mean she was cured? But there had been no way. They told us there was no way.
My sister was the one who spoke first. ‘Are you sure that’s my file?’
‘Certain.’ Dr Murphy flipped open the file again. ‘Your labs all came back perfect. Your scans were clean. Currently, you are disease-free.’
‘I thought you said there was no way,’ I said. ‘You said there was nothing you could do.’
She shrugged. ‘The only explanation I have is that some combination of the treatments we’ve been doing over the last six months must have worked. But look for yourself.’
The doctor turned the large file over to me, where two printouts of Grace’s MRI sat in front of me.
She pointed to the one on the left. ‘This was two months ago. Do you see all the white spots? That’s the cancerous tissue.
You can see how much it spreads across the scan.
Now, this one here is from last week.’ She pointed to the other image.
‘Do you see any of the white tissue from the previous scan?’
Grace’s body in the first scan was absolutely riddled with glowing white spots. The second image was completely clear. Nothing marred the body pictured. It looked like two completely different people.
‘Before you ask, yes, I triple-checked the names on the reports. They’re both Grace. Just one shows a very sick young woman, and one shows a completely healthy one.’
I looked over at Grace, sitting next to me with wide eyes.
‘What do we do?’ I asked.
‘You go home and live your life, the same as you would do if Grace hadn’t been sick. Obviously, it’ll take some time for her to regain her total strength and energy, but she’s healthy. We can follow up in a few months to confirm, but as of right now…’
I wasn’t sure I was capable of processing the information I had been given. It was too much, too soon. Compartmentalizing my brain did little to help the overwhelming emotions surging through my body. ‘Have you ever seen this before? Like is there a chance the cancer is just hiding?’
I didn’t want to reject the gift we’d been given, but I wasn’t sure either of our hearts could handle being given hope, only to have it ripped away.
Dr Murphy sighed. ‘It’s incredibly rare, but there have been instances where the treatment combination was delayed in its effectiveness. On the other hand…’ She hesitated. ‘On the other hand, you could look at this as a miracle.’
The word resounded in my chest, landing firmly in my lungs. A miracle.
I must be very lucky to have met the only miracle worker in the city. Wasn’t that what I had told the strange man in the park that day? When he asked what I would give to cure my sister, and I answered him with one word. Anything.
Surely, it was just a coincidence, nothing more.
But Grace had been incurable.
Stranger things had happened.
Besides, he said himself he wasn’t a miracle worker.
Then what was he?
Dr Murphy stood, a full smile on her lips now, even as a strange kind of unease filled the room. ‘I’m glad I was able to give you better news this time. Grace, I hope you use this second chance to live a long, happy, healthy life.’
She left, and once more, Grace and I sat in the room alone.
My sister turned to me, disbelief written all over her face. ‘Did that really just happen? Or am I still dreaming? I feel like I have to be dreaming.’
I rested my hand on her cheek, giving her the biggest smile I had in my arsenal, despite the doubt churning in my chest. What had he done? ‘You’re not dreaming. You’re not sick any more.’ The words couldn’t be real. Yet here they were. ‘What do you want to do first?’
Grace’s eyes were wide as saucers. ‘I guess… I guess I want to go home. And maybe get tacos. Celebratory ones, this time.’
My smile grew impossibly bigger. ‘Tacos are always a good choice.’
We left the hospital, as much as one could leave their trauma.
* * *
The entire night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me.
I washed the dishes and looked over my shoulder the whole time. I showered while peeking around the curtain. I climbed into bed only after looking under it.
Despite everything in my life, I wasn’t an anxious person. So what the Hell was wrong with me?
Just down the hall, Grace was probably sleeping soundly, the best sleep she’d had in ages. And I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince my brain to turn off, and that someone was not watching me from the shadows curled around the corner of my room.
The stress laced through my chest, weaving its way through my heart, even as I tried to talk myself down.
My eyelids just started to close, fluttering shut despite my pounding heart, when I heard a rustling coming from one of the corners. Archie had been soundly sleeping in the living room when I’d gone to bed. I’d already checked on him three times.
No. There was no rustling. No one was in my room. That was complete and utter insanity.
There it was again. The sound of fabric sliding against each other, demanding my attention. I bolted upright, sleep completely forgotten.
It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness – was that…?
No. There was no way.
But my eyes didn’t deceive me.
The faint beam of moonlight coming in between my curtains illuminated him without mistake.
The strange man from the trail was standing in my room, dressed entirely in black.
I pulled my covers tight around my chest, trying to slow my breath so I could reach for the cell phone I knew was within reach.
My heart pounded, blood rushing to my ears like a tidal wave.
The room shrank, growing impossibly smaller.
‘Hello, again,’ he said, as if we were meeting in a coffee shop, and not in my bedroom. Which he had broken into. ‘I hear your sweet sister is healed. I guess that just leaves the matter of your payment now.’