“What is that?” I whispered.
“We weren’t looking for it,” he said. “But the imaging showed something near your kidney.”
My mouth went dry.
“A tumor?”
“We can’t say that yet. We need more tests.”
Within days, I had additional scans, blood tests, and specialist consultations.
I barely slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered Emily’s final days.
She had been fifteen when she died.
Before that, she had always been healthy, energetic, and curious.
Then one afternoon, she began complaining of a terrible headache.
What no one realized at first was that she had an undetected brain condition.
After losing her, I became terrified of hidden illnesses.
Things that could already be there.
Silent.
Growing.
Waiting.
And now the doctors had called Thomas and
me into another consultation.
The specialist placed several images in front of us.
“There is a mass on your right kidney.”
