"You're young, with proactive treatment, the survival rate after five years is quite high," she offered words of encouragement, but I could only manage a bitter smile.
After Greyson's death, I had ceased to care about life.
"You better shave your head.
"It'll be harder to see your hair fall out in clumps.
"What's wrong? Feeling the pain?"
She adjusted the IV drip speed, but I quickly wiped away tears, shaking my head.
Greyson used to compliment me on my long hair.
The thought of never hearing his praises again made my heart ache.
The medication flowed slowly into my body, knowing its path, while I remained uncertain of my own future.
"Mom, you're back. Where's Greyson?" Shawn's voice came from outside the door.
"What are you doing here?"
My mother, Amanda Stone, was furious, knowing well that the last person I wanted to see was Shawn.
Despite her fiery temper, she treated Shawn like her own son, not because he was exceptional, but because she always heard me praise him as a good husband and father.
In reality, Amanda was fully aware of his attitude towards me in daily life, but she chose to look the other way and remained silent about it.