Alara
Sitting in Dr. Cooper’s office, the sterile smell of antiseptic filled my senses, heightening my already anxious mood. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, and I couldn’t stop fidgeting with the hem of my blouse. I had run the tests and now I was waiting for the results—answers that could finally help me take control of the situation. My fingers drummed lightly on the armrest as I tried to keep calm.
After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Cooper finally entered the room with a small, discreet envelope in hand. I sat up straighter in my seat as he handed it to me. His expression was neutral, but I could tell he was already thinking about how to deliver the news. I ripped the envelope open, scanning the contents quickly before he even began speaking. The medical jargon didn’t mean
