Now, as Nathaniel sat in the sterile hospital room beside his mother, the air thick with anxiety, he found himself waiting for what felt like the verdict of his very soul.
Vanessa’s uncle, Dr. Allen Holt, a renowned neurologist, had flown in from afar, solely to assess Bianca’s condition.
The atmosphere in the room shifted to an eerie silence as a nurse entered, placing Bianca’s MRI scans on the desk in front of the doctor.
Nathaniel remained seated beside his mother, clinging to a thread of optimism. He fervently prayed that the results would unveil something treatable, something that would grant them a sliver of hope.
Dr. Holt removed his glasses, his brow furrowing as he exhaled deeply, the weight of the moment palpable. “No, it’s not Cerebral Vasculitis,” he stated, his voice carrying a tone of relief that washed over Nathaniel like a gentle wave.
In that instant, tears brimmed in Bianca’s eyes, a mixture of relief and fear flooding through her.
The first two doctors they had consulted had delivered a grim diagnosis, labeling her condition as an autoimmune neurological disorder, telling them she had merely a year left to live. Despair had nearly consumed them. It was a stroke of luck that Vanessa had insisted on seeking a third opinion.
“Is it good news, Uncle?” Vanessa’s voice trembled slightly, a flicker of hope igniting in her eyes.
“Not necessarily,” Dr. Holt replied, his tone careful and measured. “Bianca, your scans show significant ischemic changes.”
Bianca’s brow furrowed, confusion mingling with dread. “What does that mean?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, as if afraid to hear the answer.
“It means,” the doctor explained gently, “your brain has been experiencing reduced blood flow for years. You’ve suffered multiple silent strokes.”
Nathaniel felt as though the ground beneath him had vanished. He had hoped this new revelation would lead to a more favorable prognosis, desperately yearning for good news for his mother.
Dr. Holt continued, his words heavy with gravity. “Silent strokes often occur without dramatic symptoms. They are small, progressive, and usually go unnoticed. Over time, the damage accumulates.”
Bianca’s lips quivered, and she barely managed to form her next question. “Is that why I collapse? The headaches? The confusion?”
“Yes,” the doctor confirmed softly, his eyes filled with compassion. “All of those symptoms are indicative of your condition. To prevent further episodes, you must minimize stress. Any emotional spikes-anger, distress, or agitation-can trigger additional complications.”
“Uncle, can it be treated?” Vanessa asked, her eyes wide with concern, a flicker of desperation in her voice.
Dr. Holt hesitated, the silence stretching painfully long.
“Doctor?” Nathaniel interjected, his heart racing, the urgency in his voice unmistakable.
Finally, the neurologist spoke, his words cutting through the tension. “This condition is advanced. What we’re seeing is end-stage cerebrovascular disease.”
Bianca inhaled sharply, her breath hitching in her throat. “Oh my God. It’s still the same.”
Vanessa stood behind her mother, instinctively massaging her shoulders, trying to provide comfort in the midst of despair. “W-what does that mean?”
“It means,” Dr. Holt said slowly, choosing his words with care, “the brain is losing its ability to receive adequate blood supply. There is no cure for this stage.”
Nathaniel felt the world tilt on its axis. The room dimmed around him, and he didn’t realize he had gripped the arm of Bianca’s chair until he felt the blood drain from his knuckles.
“We can slow the progression, manage symptoms, and extend Bianca’s quality of life… but we cannot reverse the damage,” the doctor said, his voice steady yet filled with sorrow.
Bianca swallowed hard, her voice trembling. “How long? How long do I have left?” Nathaniel shut his eyes, bracing himself for the blow.
The doctor’s answer came like a dagger to his heart. “Based on the scans… one to two years.”
The air seemed to vanish from the room, leaving Nathaniel gasping for breath. “One… to two years?” he echoed, his voice breaking under the weight of despair.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Holt said softly, his gaze filled with empathy. “I truly wish I could tell you otherwise This may be a long-term consequence o the stroke Bianca experienced seventeen years ago. It likely weakened certain vessels and made her more vulnerable over time.”
The stroke.
The memory hit Nathaniel like a freight train. Seventeen years ago, he had stood in a hospital hallway, terrified and praying that he wouldn’t lose his mother too.
It had come after months of heartache: the death of his father, sleepless nights, and the crushing despair that had enveloped their lives. Bianca had been drowning in grief, and her body had simply… broken under the weight of it all.
Bianca’s hands trembled in her lap. Nathaniel immediately took them in his, squeezing tightly, as if the sheer force of his grip could somehow hold her together, could stave off the inevitable.
“We’ll begin aggressive management today,” Dr. Holt said, his tone firm yet compassionate. “Blood thinners, neuroprotective therapy, strict monitoring… but understand these are not cures.”
Bianca nodded slowly, tears slipping down her cheeks, leaving streaks on her skin. “I understand.”
The news still felt like a crushing blow, yet at least now they had a clearer path forward.
It still weighed heavily on Bianca’s spirit, enough that she required a wheelchair to navigate the way out.
Outside the Neurology Department,
Nathaniel and his mother unexpectedly ran into Serena. He felt a jolt of surprise at her presence, and when he noticed the laboratory receipts clutched in her hand, a wave of concern washed over him. Was something wrong with her?
But Bianca’s reaction was immediate-anger flickering in her eyes at the sight of
Serena.
Nathaniel didn’t want to stir the pot further; he knew it was best that Serena had left with Alice.
That night, as Nathaniel helped his mother to bed, he could see the tears glistening in her eyes as she reached for his hand. “Nathan,” she said, her voice thick with emotion,
“it’s like what feared. Nothing has changed. I don’t have much time left.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, leaving a trail of sorrow. “Before I go… I want to see you settled and happy, with the right woman.”
“Vanessa is the right woman for you, not Serena,” she insisted, her voice firm yet tender. “Serena was only someone we used to bring down Victor Kline. Remember that.”
When Nathaniel remained silent, a moment of hesitation hung in the air. Bianca’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she asked, “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that woman?”
He clenched his jaw, the tension palpable in the room. “Mother, don’t you think we were too cruel?”
Bianca shook her head, her expression resolute. “It doesn’t compare to what Victor did to your father-how he robbed us of our happiness, how he indirectly made me… made us suffer.”
“Victor Kline paid the price, and Serena and his wife were simply caught in the debt he left behind.”
Nathaniel knew this truth all too well.
Some wounds run too deep to pretend they don’t exist. But what neither Nathaniel nor Bianca understood was that truth is often a tangled web, and revenge rarely offers the peace it promises.
Only time would reveal the rest.
“Here you go, Bestie. You really need a hearty broth,” Alice said cheerfully, as she placed a steaming bowl of freshly prepared ramen in front of Serena. The rich aroma wafting from the bowl was intoxicating, and Serena could tell that the broth had been lovingly simmered for hours, infusing every drop with deep, savory flavors.
“It’s absolutely divine,” Serena exclaimed, savoring another spoonful of the comforting soup, feeling the warmth spread through her.
Alongside the ramen, Alice had thoughtfully brought steamed chicken and a generous portion of garlic bread. Serena had always had a soft spot for garlic bread; the crispy, buttery slices were her guilty pleasure, a simple delight that never failed to bring her joy.
The two friends had decided to visit a buffet restaurant for the evening, a choice that felt both indulgent and necessary. Serena reminded herself that she needed to regain the weight she had lost, especially for the sake of her pregnancy.
Alice beamed widely as she watched Serena dig into her meal. Her bright brown eyes sparkled with satisfaction, matching the lively bounce of her shoulder-length black hair. “Go on, eat as much as you want,” she encouraged, her voice filled with warmth.
Serena nodded appreciatively, picking up a piece of tender chicken with her chopsticks and relishing the flavor as she chewed thoughtfully.
“By the way, have you heard from Xavier?” Alice inquired, her expression shifting to one of curiosity.
Serena shook her head, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. “I intended to call his office yesterday, but I got caught up with other things.”
“Well, regardless, I have some news regarding what Dianna mentioned,” Alice said, her tone brightening. “Last night, while I was working, I took the opportunity to sift through old records at the hospital. I discovered that you and your parents have medical records at Grand Mercy Hospital dating back twenty years, but nothing prior to that.”
“But I know someone at Velmon Prime Medical Center. You were born there, right? We should be able to dig up something, at least a clue,” Alice suggested, her eyes sparkling with determination.
“Right,” Serena agreed, her mind racing. At twenty-five years old, she realized she needed those records from her childhood, not just the recent ones.
“If that doesn’t pan out, I have a distant relative in social services. I could ask her to look into it-discreetly, of course,” Alice added, her voice reassuring.
“Thank you, Alice,” Serena said, reaching out to grasp her friend’s hand in gratitude. “I honestly don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Just promise me you’ll always be my best friend,” Alice said with a grin that lit up her face.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.