Her mother’s words snapped the hold Lora had on her emotions. The last bit of the wall of numbness she had built earlier seemed to shatter. She looked up into the concerned faces of her mother and younger brother.
“How can you say that? None of this is okay!” Lora shook her head, locking eyes with her mother. “It might not be bad now, but we all know what comes next.”
“They’ll find the right medicine, a cure. I know it,” her mum said, smiling gently.
“Oscar said there are no new developments. They’ll never find a cure in time.”
“You have to have some faith, Lora. No point in giving up hope yet.” Her mother’s grin looked forced, as if she was only putting on a brave face for her children.
Lora wanted to protest, to tell her to speak honestly, but when she glanced at her brother, she knew she couldn’t take his hope away. Not yet. But she couldn’t agree and pretend to be hopeful either. All the different scenarios that had gone through her mind were telling her the same thing: it was no use to hope. They’d been hoping the virus would run its course months ago and they still weren’t any closer to a so-calledcure.
The house suddenly felt stifling, as if the walls were already streaked with grief, threatening to cave in. All Lora could think of was the virus that had clearly chosen her mother as its next victim. The anxiousness that filled her felt like fire in her veins. It overwhelmed her senses. Lora reached for the pendant around her neck as she closed her eyes and tried to shut out the crushing fear.
She reopened her eyes when she heard footsteps drawing closer. Her father, Isaac, walked through the door, a medical kit in hand. His eyes quickly scanned the room and paused on Lora.
“Lora, honey, you’re home,” he said. “I’m so sorry I don’t have any new developments to report on. But I’m not giving up. We’re not giving up. Okay?”
The tears started falling. The dam was fully broken. Hearing her dad say it made it completely real. She pressed her lips together, trying to keep silent, to keep it contained. In her hazy state, her eyes flickered to her brother, who was crying silently into his hands. Her mother reached over, putting her hand on his leg.
Lora heard her dad drop his bag before she felt his arms surround her. She let herself be wrapped in a hug, but it only made her cry harder.
For a few seconds, Lora clung to the comfort of his embrace. Then she thought of her mother’s brave attitude. She met her mum’s dark eyes and quickly pulled away, forcing herself to calm down. Lora tilted her head up as if to keep the tears from falling. She wiped the fallen ones away with shaking hands, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Isaac was reluctant to let her go but he must have realised Lora needed him to divert his attention elsewhere.
He turned to her mother as he picked up his bag again. “I’m going to take your blood and then I’m heading back to the hospital. I don’t want us to assume anything before I’ve done some thorough testing. We can’t be a hundred percent sure you have venousphilia.”
It seemed pretty obvious to Lora that her mother had caught the virus and she wasn’t the doctor in the family, but who was she to take away her family’s remaining optimism? “Okay, that’s a good plan. Text us when you get the results,” she said.
As her father unpacked his medical equipment, Lora turned around and fled the room. If she had to pretend for another minute that this wasn’t going to end tragically, she would lose her mind. As much as she craved to join them in their hopeful illusion, she couldn’t.
Lora leaned her head back against the cold kitchen wall. The electric blue curtains and shiny white marble counter did nothing to brighten up the room. It was quiet here except for the low mumblings from her parents in the next room. She tried to envision a day where everything was perfect. Maybe last Easter. She had come home for a few days and had tried not to get sucked into her research projects. Back then, no one had an inkling of what would take over their lives not even a month later.
The sound of the door opening made Lora look up. Oscar walked into the kitchen. With his dark hair and eyes, he resembled their mother so much more than Lora did. But now his eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks tear-streaked. The sight broke her heart.
“Why did you storm out?” The accusation in his voice made her wince.
It was a difficult question. One that Lora didn’t wish to go into detail to answer. “I didn’t mean to storm out. I needed to clear my head.”
“You should’ve stayed.”
“I just walked out for a moment. I’m still here.” She started towards him but he held up his hand.
“No, I mean you shouldn’t have gone to the diner today. I was all alone with Mum.” He leaned against the kitchen counter and moved his face away from Lora.
Guilt spread through her, settling in her heart like a heavy stone. She hadn’t even thought of that. Lora reached out to comfort her brother but he quickly moved back again. “You haven’t been around as much all year, really—which is fine, whatever. But now?”
“That’s not fair. I was finishing my master’s. That doesn’t mean I don’t care. I moved back when all of this started.” The personal attack dwindled Lora’s empathy. Anger was taking over her body, reigniting her spirit.
“You moved back because you graduated.”
The comment stung more than Lora wanted to admit. She didn’t know if he was mad at her in earnest or merely saddened and scared by today’s events. The latter she could understand all too well. The former came as a surprise to her. Oscar had never made a comment like that about Lora leaving for university. She’d missed her younger brother, but since she had come back from London quite often, it had never felt as if she had truly left for good.
“Are you serious? Where is this coming from?” She could tell Oscar realised his mistake, the regret was written on his face. Lora was unsure if she was relieved because he didn’t seem to mean his last comment or because she was finally able to grasp what he was feeling. Probably a combination of both.
“I can’t deal with this alone,” he admitted, almost choking on his words.
Lora pulled him into a hug. He gave in with no resistance this time, resting his head on Lora’s shoulder.
“You don’t have to. I meant what I said. I’m here. Promise.” Even though Oscar was almost seventeen and taller than Lora, he was still her kid brother. If she could take his pain away and bear it herself, she’d do it in a heartbeat.
