Chapter 13

Marie’s POV

2015

It started with her being tired.

Nobody tells you the beginning of something terrible just looks like exhaustion. Mom started going to bed earlier, skipping her Sunday garden hours, blaming it on work, on age, on anything else. I noticed before anyone said it out loud.

The appointment fell on a weekday. I skipped last period to be there, sitting in a beige waiting room with Mom's hand cold in mine.

Dad was supposed to meet us there.

He didn't.

Mom kept checking her phone, kept saying he's probably stuck at the shop, and by the time the doctor called us, he still hadn't shown. She went in alone, just me trailing behind her.

I don't remember all the words. I remember stage two. I remember treatable, we caught this early, and I remember my mother's face going very still, like she was setting something down carefully before it could break.

She thanked t