Arthur sat beside Charlotte, they spent their time together with light conversations.
While she couldn't speak, her gestures and soft smile spoke volumes.
For over an hour, they spoke about memories, books, and even her thoughts on the hospital food.
But then Charlotte made a gesture, her hands forming words slowly, her eyes carrying a tinge of curiosity.
Why am I here?
Arthur's heart sank, but he kept his expression calm.
'So they haven't told her yet,' he thought grimly.
He quickly diverted the topic, rambling about a funny memory from their childhood. Charlotte tilted her head, giving him a faint, knowing look, but didn't press the question further.
A soft knock interrupted them, and the door opened to reveal the doctor. Arthur immediately recognized him—it was the same one who had given him the initial diagnosis.
"Hello, Mr. Fate. Miss Fate," the doctor said, giving a respectful nod to both of them.
Arthur tensed. He had been dreading this moment. The doctor's serious expression left no room for hope of a false diagnosis.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," the doctor began, his tone gentle but firm. "Unfortunately, our speculation was correct. Miss Fate has cancer."
Arthur had braced himself for this, already knowing what was coming, but his eyes flicked to Charlotte, watching her reaction closely.
She remained still, her expression unreadable. She didn't blink, didn't move—nothing.
'She isn't reacting at all?' Arthur thought, his chest tightening with worry. 'Why isn't she reacting?'
Arthur's mind churned as he watched Charlotte's reaction—or lack thereof.
Her face remained calm, her body unmoving, as though the news hadn't landed at all. Her eyes now stared past the doctor as though she hadn't even heard him.
His chest tightened, his breath catching slightly.
'When people don't react to such bad news, there are only a few reasons.'
'The first...' His thoughts grew darker. '...is the most dangerous. They're hiding their grief, suppressing it so deeply that it festers inside, growing like a sickness. It doesn't go away. It slowly eats at them until it's too late.'
Arthur's fingers clenched into fists on his lap. He tried to dismiss the thought, but the fear lingered.
'What if it's already happening?'
The second reason isn't much better. His gaze flicked to her hands, still resting limply in her lap.
'Denial.'
'The shock of the news is so great that the mind refuses to accept it as real. It's as if reality hasn't fully registered yet.'
He swallowed hard, fighting the wave of helplessness threatening to overwhelm him.
The third reason... accepting the truth but not understanding its consequences. Arthur studied her face, looking for any sign of comprehension.
'Does she realize what this means? Or is she just… lost in it?'
And then there was the last possibility. The fourth reason. His thoughts hesitated before brushing it aside.
'Strong faith. Strong will. The kind of resolve that can't be broken no matter the circumstances. But that's so rare... and honestly, it's unlikely.'
Arthur's heart sank. He couldn't ignore the nagging fear that it was the first reason—hiding grief, burying it so deep that it couldn't be reached. That fear gnawed at him as he looked at his sister, his thoughts racing in circles.
'Charlotte…' he thought, her name echoing like a plea in his mind. He wanted to reach out, to say something, anything that might pull her out of whatever storm was brewing inside. But his throat felt tight, the lump there making it impossible to speak.
He blinked, his vision blurring slightly. 'If it is the first reason… if she's suppressing this… how am I supposed to help her?' The question remained, unanswered.
The doctor cleared his throat, drawing Arthur's attention back. "Unfortunately," he continued, his voice heavy, "the cancer has spread extensively in Miss Fate's body. There is no cure for this stage…"
The words hit like a sledgehammer.
Arthur's mind went blank for a moment, the world around him seeming to fade into a distant past.
He blinked, his vision blurring slightly. His heart hammered in his chest as the weight of those words settled over him.
'No. No, this can't be real.' His breathing quickened as his mind scrambled for an escape from this reality.
'This must be a mistake. He must be joking with me.'
His thoughts spiralled, each one sharper and heavier than the last.
'Not after surviving for so long. Not after enduring everything life has thrown at us. Not after I was finally able to crave a way... a way forward.'
His hands trembled slightly, and he quickly clenched them into fists to stop the shaking. He glanced at Charlotte again. She hadn't moved, her face still calm, her eyes unfocused as though she were gazing at something far away. It was unnerving.
Arthur swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak. "What… What are our options?" he asked, his voice quieter than he intended. He hated how weak it sounded, hated the desperation that bled into his words.
The doctor gave him a sympathetic look. "There are treatments that can ease the symptoms and improve her quality of life, but they won't stop the progression. I'll leave you both to discuss this in private, and I'll check in later to go over the details."
Arthur barely heard him leave. His gaze was fixed on Charlotte, searching her face for any sign of emotion, anything to let him know what she was feeling. But she remained quiet, her expression unchanging, her hands resting lightly in her lap.
"Charlotte," he said softly, the lump in his throat making his voice uneven. She turned her head slightly to look at him, her calm gaze meeting his. Her composure was unnerving, almost surreal.
Arthur forced a small smile, though it felt like his face might crack from the effort. "It's going to be okay," he said, his voice trembling despite his best efforts.
'It has to be okay,' he thought desperately. 'It has to be.'
But as he sat there, the doctor's words pressed him down like an immovable mountain, threatening to crush the fragile hope he was clinging to.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!