Then back at the doctor.
Her lips parted slightly.
“I have…” her voice came out faint and almost disbelieving. “A brain tumor?”
The words sounded distant even to her own ears, like she was simply repeating what he said instead of actually understanding it.
The doctor gave a slow nod.
“Yes,” he said gently. “I’m afraid it is a brain tumor.”
Silence filled the room.
Amara stared at him blankly for several long seconds.
Then she asked quietly,
“So… what happens now?”
Her fingers tightened slowly in her lap.
“Am I going to die or something?”
The doctor looked down at the papers for a moment before folding his hands together on the desk. Then he leaned slightly forward and met her eyes again.
“What I’m seeing from the scans…” he began carefully, “…suggests that you may have less than three months left to live.”
Amara blinked slowly.
“Three… months?” she repeated softly.
Her voice sounded confused.
Almost numb.
It felt like she wasn’t fully understanding the words being said to her.
Three months?
How was she supposed to react to that?
Was she supposed to cry?
Scream?
Laugh?
Her mind felt completely blank.
How was she supposed to react to something like that?
How was she supposed to understand it?
She just sat there staring at the doctor while the rain continued tapping softly against the hospital windows outside.
The doctor continued speaking gently.
“The tumor is operable,” he explained. “But the location is extremely risky.”
