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Aunt Diane spoke on the phone for a very long time before entering the living room.

Shoulders slumped over, she made her way to the couch and sat down. Connor looked up from my phone.

"What's up?" he asked. "Who called?"

"Your parents," she replied uneasily.

"What did they say?"

She let out a deep breath, running her palms along her jeans. Pressing her lips together, she looked down at her hands and said, "It's about your father's mother."

"Grandma?" Connor repeated. "What about her?"

I could feel my heart beginning to race, dread building up inside of me. Our grandmother had been sick for a very long time.

Connor and I weren't that close to our grandmother. She lived far away, in the United States, but we still made an effort to visit her whenever we could. Once a year, to be exact. Natalie was close to her, though. Being the first born, therefore being our grandmother's first grandchild, she was loved. When Natalie heard about our grandmother's cancer coming back, she was devastated.

"She's very ill," Aunt Diane replied. "Your father and mother are going to be flying over there to visit her later his week."

Connor frowned, folding his arms across his chest. "But they were supposed to come back on Friday! Now what are we going to do?"

She let out a deep breath, before saying. "You'll have to stay here a bit longer, until they come back."

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