I force myself to breathe evenly as the machine envelops me. In, out. In, out. The piano melody weaves through the mechanical whirring, providing a thin veil of normalcy.

My thoughts drift to Declan as I stare straight ahead. God, I miss him. The solid warmth of his body next to mine. The way his face lit up every time he managed to get Ralph to wear one of those silly hats he crocheted. The way his brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at me like I was the only woman in the world. How safe I felt in his arms.

A wave of claustrophobia washes through me, and I do my best to concentrate on the music instead of the whirring of the machine around me.

But concentration hasn’t been easy for me lately, in every context. Facing down a potentially horrible diagnosis has a way of bringing everything in life into crystal clarity, and school hasn’t been spared. I was already feeling disillusioned with it after what happened at the alumni mixer and the conversation I had with Mr. Brooks, but now it’s near impossible to care about my studies.

How could anyone care about something as trivial as law school when they might have a brain tumor?

That thought makes my eyes sting with tears again, but I hold them back. The last thing I want is to fall apart on this slab with the tech watching me. Besides, I want this MRI to be over as soon as possible, and making them stop to check on me is just going to drag it out even longer.

It’s true, though. Since Dr. Singh told me about the potential for a brain tumor, it’s been next to impossible to think about or focus on anything else. That would’ve been the case even if the migraines and visual disturbances hadn’t gotten worse, but that isn’t helping, either.

Every time the halos appear in my vision, terror grips me. Every headache feels like a countdown timer.

I feel like shit for not telling Declan the truth. My heart splintered into a million shards watching him beg for me to tell him what was going on, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I keep replaying that night in my head—his face crumpling, his voice breaking as he pleaded with me. I’ve never felt so cruel, so heartless.

But I know firsthand what it’s like to sit by and watch someone die, to watch them slowly wither away, and the damage that does to a person. I care about Declan way too much to put him through that, and I refuse to let anyone else experience the trauma my family went through with Casey.