Remi touched Mila’s hair. “This is different. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Yes,” she said, almost in a whisper. “It was something I did on a whim. I wanted it gone.”
“I understand, honey,” Remi said. She hoped that Mila was able to heal. “It really brings out your features … your beauty.”
“Thanks, Aunt Remi.”
Remi grabbed her hand and squeezed it.
“She’s upstairs,” Mila said, her voice hoarse. “She had a rough night.”
Remi swallowed. “Thank you for texting me.”
Mila gave a slight nod. “She didn’t want me to. Didn’t want anyone to know, but I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”
“How bad is it?”
Mila hesitated. “Worse than she lets on. She got an infection from the chemo. And when they ran some tests, the doctors realized the cancer has now moved to her chest wall.”
Fear caught in Remi’s throat as she followed Mila down the long hallway with buffed floors, until they reached the shiny silver elevators. She didn’t say anything—couldn’t. She was stuck in a daze. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder. She wasn’t ready.
Upstairs, nurses moved quietly from room to room. Others gathered and chatted amongst one another at desks while answering phone calls. Remi followed Mila through the corridor until they reached Bianca’s room. Her heart pounded beneath her chest.
Mila pushed the door open. Remi and Zoe followed her inside. Bianca lay curled in the bed, a colorful silk head wrap covering her head, a hospital gown swallowing her small frame. Her eyes were closed. An IV dripped quietly at her side. Machines in the room hummed.
She looked nothing like the vibrant woman Remi once called her best friend. The beautiful Cuban girl with generous hips and an ample bosom. The knockout body that Remi had wished was hers. The girl who was the life of the party.The one who was ready to fight anyone who looked at her wrong or who gave Remi any grief. She had been her protector.
Remi stepped inside, careful not to let the door creak. For a moment she just stood there with her heart heavy.
Then Bianca began to stir. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. When she saw Remi, her expression didn’t change.
“You came.”
Remi’s throat tightened. “Of course I did.”
Bianca blinked slowly, shifting in the bed. “I told Mila not to tell anyone.”
“I know, but she was worried. Don’t blame her.”
Bianca shook her head slowly. “I don’t. But I didn’t think you would come, even if you knew.”
“I didn’t think I would either.” Remi’s voice cracked. “But I’m here.”
Bianca reached for the cup of water beside her bedside, her hand trembling too much to hold it. Remi crossed the room and caught the cup before it spilled. She held it to Bianca’s lips. Bianca drank, and when she leaned back against the pillows, her voice was nothing more than a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Remi. For all of it.”
Remi gently reached for Bianca’s hand. “We don’t have to talk about that right now. Let’s focus on getting you healed and out of here.”
They didn’t say anything else, just held on to each other.
As the sun crept into the window and cast a shadow across Remi’s face, she squinted. She tried to remember where she was. The uncomfortable orange chair in the corner of the room was a quick reminder. She scanned the room, and then looked at Bianca, who was bright-eyed and watching her.
She smiled lightly. “The girls went downstairs to get breakfast.”
Remi straightened up in the chair. “Okay.”
“I’m glad you came, Remi.”
Remi gave a nod and then a slight smile. “How are you doing with all of this? Mentally?”