𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞

A A R O N

"Aaron" Is all that she said but I know from the way that her voice shook what had happened. My hands start shaking and my teeth grind themselves together as I listen to her sob on the other end, having no idea if she's saying anything beyond my name because it sounds like I'm submerged in water.

"Aaron?" I hear again and turn my head, making eye contact with Maddison who looks at me with confusion clouding her grey eyes. It isn't the phone this time, and suddenly I remember where I am. I doubt I'll ever forget where I was at this moment, looking back.

"I...I gotta go," I state, making the creases between Maddison's eyebrows deepen; I only see it for a moment before my back is to her and I'm quickly walking away. Calling a cab, I regret not asking for a ride but other than that, there isn't much else on my mind other than getting to Charlie.

Everything else is a blur and I only zone back into reality when someone asks me if I need help finding something, already standing inside the hospital. "Where's the...radiation treatment room," I all I manage to say to the nurse, unable to speak any clearer because the use of the "c" word isn't allowed yet. Not until we know. Not until I know.

The hospital itself is unfamiliar, but how it makes me feel is the same. Everything contributes to my growing anxiety, the smells, the harsh lighting, the white walls, and even the grey tile floors. Most of all, it's the patients that make me feel sick to my stomach as I near the proper ward.

My head whips back and forth as I find my way through the maze of hallways, listening for a familiar voice to be heard through the eerie silence. Finally, I spy a door ajar and sure enough, the familiar blonde head of my sister appears above an examination table. What surprises me is that other than the doctor, she isn't alone in that room. Sitting with his elbows on his knees and with one hand over his mouth is Alexander.

I'm suddenly struck with the thought that her new boyfriend received the call about this before I did until I take in their body language and realize that Alexander isn't supposed to be here, or he at least did not receive an invitation.

Ignoring him as he looks up at me, I step in front of where Charlie sits and pull her into my arms where she immediately melts and starts to sob again, her swollen, red cheeks from earlier a sign that the phone call to me was not the only time she's cried today.

I keep my hands away from her hair, careful not to draw her attention to it, and focus on squeezing her to me, wishing that there was anything I could say to make it better, but Charlie's smarter than that. She knows how this will go. It's not the first time after all.

After she'd calmed down, Charlie asked Alexander to wait outside while we talk to the doctor, my hand glued to hers the whole time. Every once in a while, I squeeze her hand to remind her that I'm here, looking over before returning my attention to the doctor because I know that there's probably not much that she's going to retain at the moment in her current state.

The words "relapse" and "transplant" are all too familiar, and yet they bring a new wave of fear after years of this being over. The doctor is patient and kind, and yet she brings me no comfort with her confidence this time around. Even if it ends, who is to say that this will ever really be over?

Convincing ourselves we were done with this, that everything would be in the past and that America would be a fresh start for the both of us was a pipe dream. Now that we're back here, it feels hopeless. From the look in her eyes, Charlotte feels the same way. Despite my own feelings, nothing matters except making Charlotte believe that this is only one drop in the bucket and that she can beat this one more time. That it'll be the last time she has to fight so hard for her right to live.