Page 137 of Her Wicked Plan

“But I’m sure that was taken from her PTO or vacation days,” Chloe says in disbelief.

Myles shakes his head. “It didn’t interfere with any of that. Our boss understands that life happens and is very generous with his money. The man has more money than he knows what to do with. I’ll put in a good word for you if you'd like.”

“That would be amazing, Myles!” Chloe’s eyes go from hopeless to hopeful, and then she picks up her fork and starts eating again.

“Thanks, man,” I whisper to him. He nods, gazing at my sister for a little longer before focusing on his plate.

We continue with our dinner. Mom talks about what’s going on in the charities she is helping with. Dad tells us about a car in his shop that has been giving him a hard time for the past month.

It's a casual conversation like none of us have ever left. We laugh loudly at stories Chloe tells about Carter or one my mom shared about the library.

It’s so nice to be home.

When the food is cleared from our plates, and the laughter dies down, my mother dismisses Carter from the table, telling him to play with some toys or watch TV while the adults talk.

Her voice is cheerful, but the pain in her eyes overpowers it. Dad takes her hand in his and gives her a gentle squeeze.

My heart pounds because whatever she was about to tell us, without the child here, would not be good. My fist tightened around the knife in my hand as she looked at the three of us sitting around the table.

“I’m so thankful you three could make it.” She smiles but doesn’t show any teeth.

I glance over at Chloe, a crease in her brows from confusion then I look back at my mother.

“What’s going on?” I ask our mother.

“We have wanted to tell you for a while but wanted to do it when we were all together.” Tears gleam in her eyes. “This isn’t the news that should be shared over the phone.”

I don’t think my heart has ever beat so hard in my life. Clenching my hands around the metal until my knuckles turn white, I keep my eyes on her. The tension in the room is thick and full of fear at what she will say.

“How long is awhile?” I question.

She gives a long exhale. “A couple of months.”

“Mom?” Chloe's voice wavers, on the verge of tears.

Mom chews on her bottom lip, glancing at my dad, the lover of her life, who gives her a slight nod. “I have cancer.”

The humming in my ear drowns out the noise of the kid's show on the TV in the next room. It becomes a roaring sound that blocks everything around me besides the cries I hear from Chloe.

I drop the knife, and it clatters loudly on the unclothed table. My hand reaches my mouth, running along my lips as I hold in my own tears. Chloe’s tears fall down her cheek. Myles watches her as she cries, his own tears silently pouring out.

Even my father sheds a few tears. The man who is too strong to cry.

Each of our hearts is breaking.

“You’ve known about this for months and didn’t tell me?” Chloe questions through her cries. “I talk to you every day! Everyday mom and you never once⁠—”

“I couldn’t tell you without telling Leo,” she points out. “I wanted to tell the two of you together.” Then she glances at Myles. “The three of you.”

“How bad is it?” I ask the question no one wants to know the answer to.

She looks longingly between us, a tear finally escaping her eyes. “It’s not good.”

Chloe covers her mouth with her hand, holding in a sob so Carter doesn’t hear. The last thing we need is for him to come running in here with all of us breaking down.

“You’ll beat it, though, right? You’ve been seeing doctors and getting treatments, right?” I think my voice asks that, but every sound is muffled.

“I have been seeing doctors”—she swallows hard—“but unfortunately, we caught it too late. They are doing everything they can to get rid of it, but...”