The next day:

Kenna's POV

My bedside alarm blares into my ears, signaling that it is seven a.m. and time for me to wake up.

For my big day.

Well, not my wedding kind of big day. But today is important. Really important.

I go to the bathroom, get done with my business, and change into a pair of dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt.

I'm not a fashionista.

Well, let's just say I don't dress to impress. I wear jeans almost every day except for when mom has to force me to wear a dress or a skirt on occasion.

I brush my blonde hair with brown roots, which ends slightly below my chest, and tie it into a ponytail.

My straight hair has very rarely given me a bad hair day, not that it matters anyway because my hair is always tied into a ponytail or braided.

I checked my phone for any texts from Ally or my reporting manager at Starbucks, but there weren't any from the former.

Sonya, my reporting manager, said that I could make up for the shifts I miss when I'm okay and can get back to work.

I tuck my phone into the back pocket of my jeans and exit my room.

Mom is in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. And not just breakfast—my favorite kind of breakfast!

Sausages tossed in pepper and butter with beans in red sauce and some bread.

How do I know? Because I can smell that from any corner of our apartment.

I make my way to the counter with high chairs in the kitchen and lazily speak, "Good morning, Mom, breakfast please!"

"Good morning, Kenny; here you go," she answers, serving me a plate full of my favorites and placing it in front of me.

I dig into my delicious breakfast, and so does mom.

We sit in silence and have our breakfast.

Two people who are completely lost in their thoughts.

One thinking about how her life would change, the other thinking about how to deal with this change.

.

.

.

The drive to Travenford was not very long. It was a thirty-minute drive from our apartment, and for once, our GPS wasn't wrong.

Most of it was spent in silence, though not complete silence because of the radio playing in the background.

We are now in the parking lot at Travenford Medical Center.

This was it, I thought. We're here.

We made our way through it and were soon walking towards the hospital's entrance.

I inhaled deeply and followed Mom.

Once inside, we made our way to the reception.

"Hey, I'm Erin Joy, and I have an appointment for Kenna Joy with the oncohematology department this morning," mom says to the receptionist.

She was a lean woman, probably in her early thirties.

She looks up at mom and smiles, saying, "Good morning, Mrs. Joy; let me check."

"Miss Joy," mom corrects her.

She looks at Mom, nods, and types on the keyboard.

A few seconds later, she says, "Okay, you've got your appointment at nine o'clock." The head of the department is Dr. Hart. You can meet him to discuss the case in his office. The oncohematology department is on the sixth floor", she says, flicking her eyes between mom and the computer screen.

A few moments later, she hands Mom a fresh appointment card.

"Thanks," mom nods.

"You're welcome, and have a good day!" she smiles warmly.

Yeah, good day.

"You too," Mom mumbles, and we make our way towards the elevator.

We get into the elevator and click on the button that reads 6. I notice how the white button turns red as soon as I click on it and remains that way until we get to the sixth floor.

We make our way out of the elevator and are now in the middle of this huge floor.

We walk past the board that reads "Oncohematology Department" and walk to the receptionist on this floor.

He's a man who looks like he's in his mid-forties. He's too engrossed in the sudoku book ahead of him.

I somehow don't get the concept of sudoku, but who am I to say anything?

Mom clears her throat awkwardly, and he looks up, alarmed.

"Hello," mom says cheerfully.

"Hello Miss, how may I help you?", he smiles and greets mom, abandoning his sudoku.

"I'm Erin Joy, and I've got an appointment here at nine o'clock," mom says, handing him the appointment card.

He looks at my appointment card, taking in every possible word on it, and returns it back to her.

"I'm going to have to ask you to go to the waiting room. I'll send in someone to fetch you once Dr. Hart's ready to see you," he says, pointing to one of the many corridors where the waiting room was.

We make our way to it, and of course, it isn't an exciting sight.

A large room with pale blue walls, plenty of chairs arranged neatly, an average-sized rack that contains pamphlets on leukemia causes and cures, and a water dispenser at the corner of the room with a dirty glass on it, which probably more than a hundred people have used. Too gross to be in this posh hospital.

Since we are the only ones in the waiting room, mom and I keep ranting about this sulking place and laughing like crazy.

Several minutes later, a nurse walks in.

I take in her appearance.

She's a young nurse whose skirt ends mid-thigh. She has makeup on her face, as if her face were a canvas and someone kept endlessly painting on it. She has perfectly curled auburn hair. She looks like one of those females in the magazines, dressing up like a nurse to get clicked. Typical model.

I picture Dr. Hart as some old guy. Like the one in my previous hospital. Some experienced guy who'd have gray hair and spectacles on the tip of his nose and-

"Miss Kenna Joy?" the nurse interrupts my thoughts with a posh accent.

"Yes, she's here," mom says, pointing at me.

"Dr. Hart is ready to see you if you'll follow me."

"Oh yes, come on, Kenny," mom says, grabbing my file from the previous hospital and my appointment card.

I follow Mom, who in turn follows the nurse.

We get out of the waiting room and are back at the reception.

The nurse nods at the receptionist, who looks like he's been waiting for us to arrive.

"Oh, Dr. Hart will be seeing you now," he says, looking directly at mom and ignoring me like I don't exist.

"Yeah, that's what she said," Mom says, nodding toward the nurse.

The nurse just rolls her eyes and asks us to follow her.

We do so, and the receptionist looks so disappointed.

As we made our way to Dr. Hart's cabin, I felt Mom tense up. I find myself getting nervous too.

She gives my palm a squeeze and smiles at me. I'm too paralyzed to do anything.

Before we know it, we're outside his cabin.

The nameplate outside his cabin reads:

Dr. Tyler Hart,
Head of the Oncohematology Department.

The nurse turns the handle on the door, and it swings open.

_

AN:

Hey guys!

So here's Tyler! Well, actually y'all gonna see him in the next chapter.

Prepare for the arrival of your male lead character *drumroll*

-Carita D'Costa❤️