Katie

Today

John remained seated in the stiff plastic chair beside his sister's bed, his gaze fixed on her chest's gentle rise and fall as she slept. The clock had just struck ten in the morning. They talked for a while until Katie's words gradually faded, and her head drooped to the side.

Rising from his seat, John made his way to the bathroom, where he turned the tap, allowing the cool, clear water to cleanse his hands, arms, and face. His eyes retained a hint of swelling and a distant gaze. He carried an unsettling feeling of being confined, a yearning for things to revert to their former state – to embark on global adventures and share laughter with his sister, reminiscent of her healthier days.

He contemplated when the insidious cancer had commenced its internal consumption. Were the malignant cells already forming during their childhood, when they filled their hours with storytelling and composing melodies? Or did it seize its chance during their first world tour? Nights spent side by side, exerting themselves on stage until they could hardly stand, collapsing upon returning to their dressing room. In those moments, did the echoes of packed stadiums across continents fuel its growth? Or did the cancerous seed implant itself when they clasped their first Grammy? Oh, how he wished to rewind time to that pivotal moment of her illness...

How had he missed it? He knew his sister better than he did himself. He recognized the flicker in her eyes and the crease on her forehead, a telltale sign of her internal turmoil. He could read her emotions effortlessly – anger, sadness, loneliness – each emotion portrayed with distinct clarity. A radiant spark that turned her emerald eyes into shimmering stars when she felt joy. He was intimately acquainted with every nuance, every gesture, yet the cancer's stealthy invasion had eluded his notice, perhaps for years.

John wiped away the tears in his eyes, took a deep breath, and reentered the hospital room. Katie was now awake, immersed in her mobile phone.

"Did you get a good sleep?" he inquired.

"Oh yes," she answered with a smile. "I dreamt we were soaring like eagles in Montana."

"Why Montana?"

"No clue. Montana's always been on my list, I guess."

"We actually visited Montana," he reminded her.

"Yeah? When?"

"About five years ago."

John attempted to conceal his pain, masking it from view. Though it was likely the medication affecting her memory, the fact that Katie appeared to forget was still a pang in his heart. How long before she no longer recognized him?

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Hey, man," he greeted as he picked up the call.

"How's she doing?" the concerned voice on the other end asked.

"She's awake. Do you want to talk to her?"

John anticipated the response and handed the phone to Katie.

"It's Billy. I'll be waiting outside."

Taking the phone, Katie held it close, and John retreated from the room, granting his sister and her husband a private moment.

"Hello," she whispered.

"Hey, Sweetheart, how are you?" Billy's voice conveyed genuine concern.

"Everything is fine. No need to worry," Katie replied, but they both knew that was a lie.

"I've just landed in London," Billy informed her. "We'll be on our way again shortly. I should be with you in about seven hours."

"You didn't have to do this," Katie's voice softened, but Billy dismissed her words.

"I spoke to your mom. She's on her way with the kids."

"No!" Katie's response was firm and filled with the tone that Billy knew too well.

"Baby—"

"Billy, I don't want them to see me like this!"

She heard his sigh on the other end.

"Fine, if that's what you want," he conceded, and she was relieved he gave in without much resistance. She didn't have the energy for arguments right now.

"Thank you," she replied with warmth.

"I love you, baby. Please wait for me."

With that, he hung up, and Katie was sure she detected a hint of tears in his voice.

As she composed a text message, John reentered the room.

"Is he on his way?" her brother inquired, and Katie nodded. John put on a brave face and produced a deck of cards from his pocket.

"Just bought these from the gift shop. How about a game of poker? Hundred dollars per bet."

He began shuffling the cards.

"Johnny?"

"What?" he responded without looking up.

"We need to talk about my last will," Katie broached the subject cautiously.

"No," he responded calmly, though he evaded her gaze.

"John! If Billy doesn't make it—"

"No!" he interjected, this time more forcefully, locking his eyes onto hers. "Not yet," he whispered.

"Alright," she acquiesced calmly. "Hundred dollars. I'm in."

Francine O'Connor remained stationed by the hospital's main entrance, now teeming with paparazzi and curious onlookers. Her cameraman counted down from ten. When he reached one, the next live broadcast would commence.

"...four, three, two, one!"

"Good morning, I'm Francine O'Connor. We're here outside Presbyterian Hospital in New York, where Katie de Rossi's condition remains steady. Her brother, John, has been with her for roughly an hour and a half. Bill Bentley, de Rossi's husband, is en route and anticipated to touch down in about seven hours from London Heathrow Airport. Stay tuned; we'll bring you updates as this story unfolds. Reporting live for SHL News, I'm Francine O'Connor."

Billy sat in the airplane, gazing out the window in contemplation. He'd just finished the soundcheck when his assistant approached him, handing him the phone. On the other end, he heard John, who informed him with a concerned voice that Katie had called an ambulance half an hour ago. John explained that she was in serious condition, and he was en route to the hospital without delay. Billy left everything behind, directing his assistant to cancel the evening's concert and the remainder of the worldwide tour. He swiftly arranged for his return to New York, taking off from Paris and flying to London, where the private jet underwent refueling and inspection before continuing its journey back home.

He understood all too well that embarking on the tour under these circumstances had been a misjudgment, though Katie had ardently insisted otherwise. She'd reassured him she was alright and promised to await his return. Billy seethed with frustration, realizing he should have seen through the façade. It was evident that she was far from well, yet she had been resolute in her encouragement for him to pursue his passion. The tour had been slated for a mere four months, and Katie had pledged to manage matters on her own. Her insistence had practically coerced him, given her understanding of its significance to him. Who knew how many more chances he would have to go on tour? After all, he wasn't getting any younger.

Billy closed his eyes, attempting to recollect the first instance he laid eyes on his wife. She had been sixteen, radiating beauty, vitality, and creative energy. Even though he hadn't grasped it then, the truth was that he had fallen head over heels for her at that very moment. He had wooed her, married her, and witnessed her and John's rapid ascent in the music world. She had blessed him with three perfect children. The two had led a dreamlike life, brimming with love, happiness, and music. However, about a year ago, fortune was torn from his grasp.

Today, he was fifty-seven years old, and his wife was forty. The notion that she might depart before him had never crossed his mind. Due to their age difference, he had always assumed that he would go first. Yet, as so often happens in life, fate threw him a curveball.