Dr. Halloran lifted the clipboard. “I have your latest labs and scan results. Do you want the summary first, or do you want the details?”
“Start with the big picture,” Roy said.
Dr. Halloran turned the sheet so Roy could see, though Emily doubted he could focus on the words. “Your PET scan is clear. No evidence of disease.”
The room tilted. For a second, nobody moved.
Does that mean what I…Emily felt dizzy herself.
Patricia made a sound and gripped Roy’s hand with both of hers. Roy’s face remained impassive, but Emily saw the red flash at the tips of his ears, the way his right foot began to tap in a slow, almost imperceptible rhythm. Emily’s own heart went weirdly slow, then resumed at double speed.
“Clear?” Roy repeated.
“Remission,” Dr. Halloran said. “Your last round of therapy worked. There’s no measurable cancer at this time.”
The wordtherapyricocheted, caught in Emily’s ears. She searched the faces on either side of her, looking for the tell—some sign that she hadn’t misheard. Patricia’s mouth was slightly open, eyes shining wetly at the corners. Roy’s eyes stayed on the printout, tracking left to right like he was still trying to parse it.
Dr. Halloran set the clipboard aside, steepled her hands on her lap. “You’ll still need follow-up every few months. Then, after a year, a yearly. Maintenance, labs, scans. But I’m happy to say you have no active disease.”
It was Patricia who broke first. “I don’t understand,” she said, voice feathering at the edges. “He’s been so tired. No appetite. The hand tremors, the forgetfulness. The dizzy spell—”
“That’s not cancer,” Dr. Halloran replied. “That would be in the details I mentioned. Your hemoglobin is low, Mr. Mitchell. You’re anemic. That’s likely due to the chemotherapy, but it’s easily treated with supplements. I’ll send you a script for a strong iron and give you a list of foods that can help. Appetite will improve as the anemia does. Everything else is in the normal range. Liver function is good. The low platelets will resolve on their own.”
Emily blinked, hard. “So, he’s not… you’re saying he’s not sick?”
Dr. Halloran’s smile this time was real, the lines at the corners of her mouth creasing deeply. “He’s not sick. Not anymore. He’s in remission.”
“If you have any questions, my cell is on the card,” the doctor said, placing it on the side table. “But for today, I’d say go celebrate.”
Roy let his head loll back against the chair, eyes closing. Patricia was openly crying now, silent but unstoppable. Emily sat rigid. Her mind ticked over the words, trying to fit them together:remission, therapy, iron-deficiency, not sick.
She said to Roy, “This is because of the new treatment?”
It was like the air changed pressure in the room. Patricia’s crying quieted instantly. Roy opened one eye.
Dr. Halloran looked between them, then at Roy. There was a quick exchange, silent, electric.
“I’ll give you a minute,” the doctor said, voice gentle. She stood, gathered her clipboard, and let herself out with a quiet click of the door.
Emily watched her father, searching his face for the punchline. He didn’t look at her; his eyes were fixed on the closed door. It was Patricia who answered. She turned to Emily, cheeks streaked but voice already back under control.
“There was a change, after the new treatments. We didn’t want to give anyone false hope, though.”
Emily swallowed again. “You could have told us it was working, Dad. You said you wanted to spend the rest of the time—”
“I did,” Roy said, cutting her off, voice low. “That hasn’t changed. I didn’t want to believe that things might turn around so drastically.”
Emily shook her head, the movement making her dizzier. “When? How?”
“Thanksgiving,” Roy said. “I started showing better signs right after. But, like your mom said, I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
Patricia reached across Roy to take Emily’s hand, fingers trembling. “He didn’t want to tell you unless it was confirmed beyond a doubt.”
Emily pulled her hand away, not out of anger but a need to anchor herself. “You lied to me.”
Patricia’s mouth twitched. “No. We kept it private.”
Emily pressed her fists to her knees, as if she could squeeze the confusion out through her own skin.“Why?”
