The waiting room smelled faintly of antiseptic and brewed coffee, an odd combination that had become strangely familiar to Alliah. The soft hum of an air conditioner filled the silence while Jamiro squeezed her hand, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin. Joshua sat on the chair beside them, his legs swinging nervously, clutching the book his mother had asked him to bring along.
Today was not just another checkup. It was the follow-up appointment after her most recent therapy cycle—a moment they had all been waiting for with both dread and cautious hope. The previous results had hinted at improvement, but this appointment would either confirm it or set them back to uncertainty.
Alliah’s heart raced as the nurse finally called her name. She stood up slowly, her legs weaker than she
