Sometimes life doesn't just throw one problem at you—it throws them all at once and watches to see if you break.
Ethan sat down heavily at the kitchen table, the letter still in his mother's trembling hands.
"When?" His voice came out hoarse. "When do they want you to come in?"
"Tomorrow morning. Nine AM." Sarah set the letter down carefully, as if it might explode. "They want to do a full panel. CT scan, bloodwork, maybe a biopsy depending on what they find."
"I'm coming with you," Ethan said immediately.
"No. You have classes—"
"I don't care about classes. I'm coming with you."
"Ethan—"
"Mom." His voice was firm. "I'm. Coming. With. You."
Sarah looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. Thank you."
Lily wiped her eyes. "What about me? Should I skip school?"
"Absolutely not," Sarah said. "You have that chemistry test you've been studying for all week."
"But—"
"No buts. One of us missing school is enough." Sarah reached across the table and took both their hands. "Listen to me. Both of you. We don't know anything yet. The elevated levels could mean a lot of things. It doesn't necessarily mean the cancer is back."
"But it could," Lily said quietly.
"Yes. It could." Sarah squeezed their hands. "But we're not going to panic until we have actual information. Okay? We've been through this before. We know how to handle it."
Ethan wanted to argue, wanted to scream that they shouldn't have to handle it again, that it wasn't fair, that his mother had already fought this battle and won and shouldn't have to fight it again.
But he didn't.
Because falling apart wouldn't help anyone.
"Okay," he said. "We wait for information. But Mom—"
"Yeah?"
"You have to promise me something. No more downplaying. No more protecting us from the scary stuff. Whatever they tell you tomorrow, you tell us. All of it. Deal?"
Sarah's eyes filled with tears. "Deal."
They sat there at the kitchen table, the three of them holding hands, the letter sitting between them like a ticking bomb.
Ethan's phone buzzed. A text from Vanessa.
Vanessa: Bus leaves in an hour. Can't wait to see you.
He stared at the message, his chest tight.
How was he supposed to tell her this?
Ethan met Vanessa at the bus station at 2 PM as promised.
She stepped off the bus looking exhausted—dark circles under her eyes, shoulders slumped, but she managed a smile when she saw him.
"Hi," she said, falling into his arms.
"Hi." He held her tight, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, trying to memorize the feeling of having her close.
"I missed you," she murmured against his chest.
"I missed you too."
They stood there for a long moment, just holding each other while other passengers streamed around them.
Finally, Vanessa pulled back and looked at him. Really looked at him.
"What's wrong?"
"What?"
"Something's wrong. I can tell." She cupped his face. "Ethan, what happened?"
He'd planned to wait. To get her somewhere private, somewhere comfortable. To ease into it gently.
But standing there in the bus station, looking into her worried eyes, he couldn't lie.
"My mom got her test results back. Her levels are elevated. They think—" His voice cracked. "They think the cancer might be coming back."
Vanessa's face went pale. "Oh my God. Ethan—"
"She has more tests tomorrow. We'll know more then."
"When tomorrow?"
"Nine AM."
"I'm coming with you."
"Vanessa, you don't have to—"
"Yes, I do." Her voice was firm. "You were there for me this weekend—emotionally if not physically. Now I'm here for you. I'm coming."
"You have classes—"
"I don't care about classes." She took his hand. "Unless you don't want me there?"
"I want you there. I just don't want you to feel obligated—"
"Ethan." She stopped him. "I love you. Your family is important to you, which makes them important to me. I'm coming. End of discussion."
He pulled her into his arms again, something breaking loose in his chest. "Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me. This is what we do. We show up for each other."
They stood there in the bus station, holding each other while Ethan's world crumbled around him.
That evening, Ethan tried to study but couldn't focus.
His mind kept circling back to the same thoughts: What if the cancer was back? What if the treatment didn't work this time? What if he lost his mother?
He was sitting at his desk, staring at his laptop screen without seeing it, when Lily knocked on his door.
"Can I come in?"
"Yeah."
She entered and sat on his bed, pulling her knees to her chest. "I'm scared."
"Me too."
"What happens if—" She couldn't finish the sentence.
"We don't know anything yet, Lily. Tomorrow we get more information."
"But what if it's bad? What if the cancer is back and the treatment doesn't work and—" Her voice broke. "What happens to us?"
Ethan turned in his chair to face her. "Then we handle it. Together. Like we always do."
"But you're graduating soon. You'll have a job, a life. You shouldn't have to—"
"Stop." He moved to sit beside her on the bed. "You're my sister. Mom is my mother. There is no version of my life where I don't take care of you both. Do you understand?"
Lily leaned against his shoulder. "I don't want to lose her."
"Neither do I."
They sat there in silence for a long time.
Finally, Lily spoke again. "Does Vanessa know?"
"Yeah. I told her when I picked her up from the bus station."
"How did she take it?"
"She's coming with us tomorrow. To the appointment."
Lily pulled back to look at him. "Really?"
"Really."
"She must really love you."
"I think she does."
"How did her weekend go? With her mom?"
Ethan sighed. "Not great. Her mom asked her to take a break from me. Vanessa said no. Her parents got into a huge fight. The whole thing was a mess."
"Her mom really hates you, huh?"
"She doesn't hate me. She hates the idea of me. There's a difference."
"Does it matter? Either way, she's trying to break you guys up."
"She won't succeed."
"You sound pretty confident about that."
"I am. Vanessa and I—we've been through too much to let her mother's issues tear us apart." Ethan paused. "Plus, after tomorrow, we might have bigger problems to worry about."
Lily was quiet for a moment. "I'm glad Vanessa's coming. Mom likes her."
"Yeah. She does."
"And she makes you happy. I can tell."
"She does."
"Then I'm glad you have her. Especially now."
Ethan put his arm around his sister. "We're going to be okay, Lily. Whatever happens tomorrow, we're going to be okay."
He said it with more confidence than he felt.
But sometimes, that was all you could do.
That night, Ethan couldn't sleep.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios.
At 11:30 PM, his phone buzzed.
Vanessa: Are you awake?
Ethan: Yeah. Can't sleep.
Vanessa: Me neither. Can I call?
Ethan: Please.
His phone rang seconds later.
"Hi," he answered.
"Hi." Vanessa's voice was soft. "How are you holding up?"
"Honestly? I'm terrified."
"I know. I would be too."
"I keep thinking about what happens if—" He stopped. "I can't even say it out loud."
"Then don't. Not yet. Not until we know something concrete."
"But my brain won't shut off. It just keeps running through every possible scenario."
"I know that feeling." Vanessa was quiet for a moment. "When my mom was in the worst of her addiction, I used to lie awake every night imagining all the ways it could go wrong. All the ways I could lose her. It was torture."
"How did you deal with it?"
"Honestly? I didn't. Not well, anyway. I just white-knuckled through it until things got better." She paused. "But I learned something from that time."
"What?"
"That worrying about the future doesn't change it. It just steals the present." Her voice was gentle. "I know that's easier said than done. But Ethan, your mom is still here. Right now, tonight, she's okay. Try to hold onto that instead of all the what-ifs."
"You're right. I know you're right."
"But it doesn't make it easier."
"No. It doesn't."
They were quiet for a moment, just breathing together across the phone line.
"Ethan?" Vanessa said finally.
"Yeah?"
"I'm really glad I get to be there tomorrow. With you."
"Me too."
"And whatever happens—whatever the doctors say—you don't have to go through it alone. You know that, right?"
"I'm starting to."
"Good. Because I'm not going anywhere. Even if things get really hard."
"They might. My mom's treatment last time was brutal. Months of chemo, radiation, constant hospital visits. If the cancer is back—" His voice cracked. "Vanessa, it could be bad. Really bad. Are you sure you want to sign up for that?"
"I'm not signing up for anything. I'm just staying. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Yeah. Signing up implies a choice. Staying implies commitment. And I'm committed to you, Ethan. To us. That includes the hard stuff."
Ethan felt tears slip down his cheeks. "I love you."
"I love you too. So much."
They talked for another hour—about nothing and everything. About classes and the upcoming Thanksgiving break and Lily's chemistry test and how the community center kids were doing.
Safe topics. Normal topics. A brief respite from the fear.
Finally, around 1 AM, Vanessa yawned.
"You should sleep," Ethan said. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
"So should you."
"I'll try."
"Ethan?"
"Yeah?"
"It's going to be okay. I don't know how, but it will be."
"Promise?"
"No. But I choose to believe it anyway."
"That's very optimistic of you."
"I learned it from this guy I know. He's annoyingly good at staying hopeful even when everything is falling apart."
Despite everything, Ethan smiled. "He sounds obnoxious."
"He is. But I love him anyway."
"Lucky guy."
"I think so."
They said goodnight, and Ethan set his phone on his nightstand.
He still couldn't sleep, but somehow, he felt a little less alone.
Monday morning arrived gray and cold.
Ethan was up at six, showered and dressed by six-thirty. He made breakfast for Lily—scrambled eggs and toast—and walked her through her chemistry notes one more time before she left for school.
His mother emerged from her room at seven-thirty, already dressed, her face carefully composed.
"Ready?" she asked.
"As I'll ever be."
"Vanessa texted. She's catching the bus and will meet us at the hospital."
"You told her she didn't have to—"
"I know. But she insisted." Sarah smiled slightly. "You picked a good one, sweetheart."
"I know."
They caught the bus at eight, riding in silence through the morning rush. Ethan stared out the window, watching the city wake up, and tried not to think about what the next few hours might bring.
Vanessa was waiting outside the hospital when they arrived, two coffee cups in her hands.
"Thought you might need this," she said, handing one to Ethan.
"You're a lifesaver."
She hugged Sarah. "Hi, Mrs. Cross. How are you feeling?"
"Nervous. But grateful you're here."
"I wouldn't be anywhere else."
They walked into the hospital together—Ethan, his mother, and Vanessa—and checked in at the front desk.
The waiting room was sterile and cold, filled with uncomfortable chairs and outdated magazines.
They sat.
And waited.
At 9:15, a nurse called Sarah's name.
They all stood.
"Only family for the initial consultation," the nurse said apologetically, looking at Vanessa.
"She's family," Sarah said firmly. "She comes with us."
The nurse nodded and led them back.
And as they walked down that long, sterile hallway, Ethan felt Vanessa's hand slip into his.
Together.
They were facing this together.
Whatever came next, at least he wouldn't be alone.