Abella Sterling (Female P.O.V)

October 11, 2074

I brought the car to a screeching stop in front of St. John Catholic school. The grating noise drew a few curious stares from the lower windows of the four-story building. I ignored them, but I couldn't do the same with Sister Tia. The elderly nun shot a disapproving look my way that made my cheeks redden in embarrassment.

Smiling sheepishly, I shifted my gaze to the small boy waiting beside her. Wrinkles formed in his uniform as he slumped underneath the woman's thin arm. The flat line of his lips morphed into a smile when he saw me. I smiled back as he snatched up the black backpack at his feet. He didn't bother putting it on but dashed down the four concrete stairs and into the car as if pursued by the devil.

I shrugged off his behavior, figuring it was because no kid liked being at school for longer than required. I was the same way when I was twelve.

While Logan settled himself into the passenger seat, I rolled down the window.

"I'm sorry, I'm late, Sister Tia," I said as she descended the stairs. "Thank you for waiting with him."

"No problem, dear." The tiny smile on her face and the sincerity of her words warmed my heart.

I started to roll up the window, but she spoke again. "If you want, you can sign him up for the after-school tutoring program with the other kids?"

Her dark blue eyes flicked toward the kids, still mashing their facing against the windows.

That was the last thing he needed. He was already a straight-A student. If anything, he could use more extracurricular activities.

"Oh, umm..." My voice trailed off when I looked Logan's way.

His big brown eyes bulged out of their sockets, and his bottom lip poked out. It was the first time in years I had seen the desperate act.

"Umm... I'll think about it." I finally said.

"Okay, dear."

After waving goodbye, I pulled away from the curb.

"Starting Monday, I'll be the one to take you and pick you up from school," I said while blindly fidgeting with the buttons to raise the window.

He nodded and mashed the correct button himself. "Did you get in touch with dad?"

Softly sighing, I shook my head. "No, he didn't answer."

I intentionally didn't mention that all of the hundred or so calls I made during the drive to his school went straight to voicemail. It would only cause unnecessary worry.

"This morning, when you left for school, did dad tell you he wouldn't be able to pick you up?"

"No."

Numerous scenarios circulated through my brain about what could have gone wrong. However, one reason kept recurring no matter how hard I tried to dismiss it. He started gambling again. I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but I couldn't ignore the signs.

Every time he went on a gambling binge in the past, his behavior followed the same pattern. Ignoring phone calls, disappearing for days, and blatantly disregarding everything of importance. But maybe...

"Is he still going to his gambler's anonymous meeting?" I waited with bated breath for his answer.

"No, he stopped going."

I mashed the brake stopping at the gated entrance of the school. "When?"

"A few weeks ago."

A few weeks ago?!

I gritted my teeth, biting back choice words. Logan didn't need the colorful string of words to taint his young mind.

My head fell back against the headrest.

I couldn't believe it. My dear old dad struck again.

He was the reason my bank account saw more withdrawals than deposits.

Of course, it hadn't always been that way. Before that dreadful day five years ago, he had been self-sufficient. But everything changed in one fell swoop.

I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the memories of that day from careening toward the surface but to no avail.

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August 16, 2069

My right knee bounced in sync with my fingernails that tapped against the chair arm. After taking a few deep breaths, my restless digits went still, and my knee eventually followed suit.

But staying completely motionless proved to be a challenge. Not even ten seconds later, I leaned forward and peered down the narrow hallway beside the receptionist's desk. Half the doorways branching off the bright passage were open while the rest were closed.

A few men and women dressed in various colored scrubs passed freely from room to room. But none of them were who I was hoping to see.

It had been roughly thirty minutes since Dr. Jordan led my parents down the hall. And awaiting their return was slowly killing me.

I mean, why did it take so long to confirm something an at-home pregnancy test achieved in minutes?

I softly sighed, leaned back, and let my eyes roam around the room.

The bland beige and white walls didn't provide much of a distraction. And I wasn't interested in the crumpled magazines broadcasting the latest celebrity scandal.

I groaned, gaining the attention of the other three occupants sitting in the waiting room. Even the dark-skinned nurse behind the white l-shaped desk peeked over the rim of his glasses at me. I shot a small apologetic smile their way before turning to my brother in the next seat.

"Is mom havin' a baby?" Logan asked while finishing off the last of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

The question caught me so off guard all I could do was laugh. "W-w-what?" I sputtered. "Why would you ask me that?"

I seriously doubted the question stemmed from us currently waiting to receive news of mom's check-up.

"I ove...." His voice trailed off as he became fascinated by a bit of peanut butter clinging to his hands.

Before he could lick it off, I hauled him to his feet. "Let's get you cleaned up."

After grabbing my purse and Logan's coloring book, I led him down the hall to the bathroom.

We were halfway there when a familiar voice drifted out from the open doorway in front of us.

"I'm sorry." She said, making a knot form in my stomach.

It only took me a second to recognize the voice as Dr. Jordan.

Guiding Logan off to the side, I pressed up against the wall as she continued to speak.

"You're not pregnant." There was a long pause, and it took every ounce of my strength not to peek over the doorframe.

Please, please. I was internally begging and praying it wasn't my mother. Even though deep down, I knew it wasn't.

But surely Dr. Jordan must be wrong. The at-home pregnancy test aside, my mother had been sick for weeks. Weeks. What was her explanation for that?

"How can that be? T-t-the pregnancy test and my morning sickness al..."

"The pregnancy test could have been defective, and your nausea is because you have Metastatic Pancreatic Cancer."

My breath caught in my throat, and tears welled in my eyes. It was fortunate the wall was holding me, or I would be lying on the floor.

Metastatic Pancreatic Cancer. Those three words looped in my head like a broken record.

No. God, please, no. I internally begged, staring up at the ceiling. I was shaking. Trembling. From my head to my feet. I couldn't lose my mother. Not like this. Not ever. More tears gathered in my eyes, distorting the white panels up above. A tug on my pants legs nearly broke me. Blindly reaching down, I pulled my brother closer. He giggled, oblivious to the world falling apart around him.

"No, No. Surely that can't be right." The distress in my mother's voice rang clear even through the thick walls.

I couldn't imagine how my mom felt to think she was bringing a new life into the world only to discover she wasn't, and hers was ending soon.

"Can we run some more tests o-o-or get a second opinion?" My father asked.

"I'm sorry..."

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A horn blaring brought me back to reality. After checking both sides of the street, I pulled out and parked off to the side.

I couldn't quite shake the memories of that day. Every aspect inked itself upon my brain, especially those three life-altering words. That bitter pill of a diagnosis cut deep, ripping through the fabric of my existence.

The one thing no one told me about cancer was that it wasn't only hell on the patient but also the family. Sitting by my mother's bedside, watching the light diminish from her eyes and her body wither away, was torture. I wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy.

Time had failed me. It had yet to fade the memories of that day or heal the wound created by my mother's untimely death.

I supposed the damage inflicted was too deep and the pain immeasurable for the healing process to begin anytime soon.

After she passed away, my dad took up gambling. At first, it was a way to pay the bills. However, a stroke of rotten luck landed him in even more debt than when he began. Left with no other options, we sold the home I grew up in and most of the furniture. Before cashing out the college fund, my parents scrimped and saved up for years to pay off the hefty sum.

Even after losing the money to pay for college, I didn't quit school. I reduced my course load and worked part-time as a waiter while tutoring on the weekends. That was until I found out my dad was still gambling. It was his way of coping with his grief but soon became a full-on addiction.

My minimum wage salary alone wouldn't cover his debts. So I reluctantly put my education on hold and worked more hours.

Slowly my role in our family dynamics changed. I needed to be a pillar, parent, and provider while he overcame his problems. Problems I thought were under control until now.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked.

His head dropped to his chest as he twiddled his thumbs. "I didn't want to distract you from the game. I know we need the money."

His maturity saddened and shocked me at the same time. Thanks to my dad, I couldn't hide our financial problems. But that didn't mean I didn't try.

Logan deserved a normal childhood, not having to worry about money. And until I figured out a solution to keep my dad from gambling permanently, he would never have it.

I cupped his chin, lifting and turning his head until his eyes met mine. "Yes, we need the money, but that game is not more important than you and dad. Don't ever feel like you can't come to me. Okay?"

"Okay."

Smiling, I reached over and ruffled his dark curls. He nearly plastered himself against the door in an attempt to get away.

Lightly chuckling, I checked the side view mirror for oncoming traffic. "I'm going to drop you off at my place. Cris will look after you while I go to find dad."

"Can I come?"

"No!" I shouted, making him recoil at my sharp tone. "Just wait for me at home," I added in a much softer tone.

If he went with me, I would only worry. The places I was about to check weren't exactly kid-friendly. Under normal circumstances, even I would avoid them. However, I couldn't this time. Although I strongly disapproved of his habits, I couldn't leave him out there.

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Thank you for reading!❤

7-15-22