YURI

CHAPTER FIVE

Joe had already called the rest of the family, and within the hour, the waiting room was filled with familiar faces—some pacing, some whispering, some just sitting in heavy silence. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, with worry.

I sat in the far corner, knees pulled close, staring at the bland hospital floor tiles as if they might give me answers. The only person I’d spoken to was Kirby—her voice breaking over the phone as soon as I told her.

“I’m on the next flight,” she’d said without hesitation. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just… keep me updated, okay?”

Now, I kept glancing at the double doors the doctor had disappeared behind, each second stretching into eternity. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure the whole room could hear it.

Every time a nurse walked past, I shot to my feet, only to sink back down when they kept moving. The waiting was torture, and all I could do was replay the moment she collapsed—over and over—wishing I could turn back time.

The people present are Kendall and his wife Joanne – they never had kids. Paul and his wife Stacy with their kids Austin and Dillion. Me and Joe – mom's trusted friend/companion.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor finally emerged from behind those heavy double doors. The entire room went silent—every conversation cut off mid-word, every movement frozen.

“She’s stable for now,” he began, his tone measured but heavy, “but… I’m afraid it’s not good news. Your mother has advanced breast cancer. It’s spreading rapidly, and… it’s already reached its final stage.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Cancer?” The word tore out of me, sharp and trembling. “She never said she was sick!”

The doctor gave a small, sympathetic nod, but before I could ask more, Joe stepped forward. His voice was low, almost apologetic. “She… she didn’t want you to worry. She made me promise to keep it to myself. Said she wanted to spend whatever time she had left making everyone happy, not sad.”

My knees went weak. I gripped the arm of the chair beside me, fighting the sting in my eyes. Around me, the family murmured, some gasping, others looking away as if they couldn’t bear to meet my gaze.