Clara squeezed her mother’s hand, the silence between them thick with both exhaustion and understanding. For the first time since her diagnosis, she didn’t feel like she was falling — just suspended, steady enough to breathe. But then things took a turn.
Her counts dropped lower than before. The doctors spoke in hushed tones outside her room, using words like “aggressive treatment” and “limited time.” The next phase of therapy would cost more than Maggie had — more than either of them could imagine.