I entered inside and waited in front of his room, clutching the papers in my hand. The sound of laughter echoed through the hallway, and Samuel appeared together with my cousin, their laughter ceasing as they saw me.
“You win.”
“Shelly?” My brother’s eyes widened in disbelief, and he rubbed his eyes to see clearly.
“You win. I am going to die.”
I flung the papers in his face, feeling a little satisfaction when the papers flew and cut him. A tiny droplet of blood trickled down his face, but it was quick to heal. “What is all this?”
“Shelly?” Liecia's eyes widened as she looked at me, as if she were seeing a ghost. “How did you get here?” I don’t know which one hurt—seeing my brother act like a stranger or seeing Liecia behaving like I was leprous.
We had all been close, but I guess that was all a memory.
“I have stage three cancer. I know it is funny; werewolves don’t get sick, but I don’t have my wolf, so it was bound to happen.” I told him, watching his reaction. Something flashed in his eyes—sympathy—or I was probably daydreaming, and he took a step back.
“I knew you were cursed, but I didn’t think you would bring it here.”