Chapter 6 - The Secret DiagnosisFor fifteen years, I had believed I knew the woman standing beside me.
Then Claire looked at me with tears gathering in her eyes and said nothing.
Dr. Bennett stepped toward the door.
“Marcus, Claire, I need you both outside for a moment.”
I didn't move.
“My daughter is lying right there.”
“I know,” Dr. Bennett said quietly. “And I'm not asking you to leave her unattended. Nurse Nia will stay with Maya.”
Claire walked out first.
I followed her.
The hallway smelled like disinfectant and burnt coffee. A cart squeaked past us. Somewhere behind a closed door, a monitor beeped steadily.
Dr. Bennett lowered his voice.
“The ultrasound shows a sizable mass in Maya's lower abdomen.”
My throat tightened.
“What kind of mass?”
“We don't know yet.”
Claire folded her arms tightly across her chest.
Dr. Bennett continued.
“It appears to be originating near one of her ovaries. There are also signs of inflammation, and given the amount of tenderness she's experiencing, I'm concerned about torsion.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“The ovary can twist and cut off its own blood supply.”
I stared at him.
“How fast do we need to move?”
“Very.”
Claire finally spoke.
“You said you don't know what the mass is.”
“I don't.”
“Then how can you know she needs surgery?”
“Because regardless of whether the mass is benign or malignant, the twisting itself can become an emergency.”
I looked at Claire.
She wasn't reacting like a mother hearing this for the first time.
She was reacting like someone hearing confirmation.
I stepped closer.
“You knew.”
Her eyes snapped to mine.
“I knew she had been having pain.”
“No.”
“Marcus—”
“You knew about the mass.”
She swallowed.
Dr. Bennett looked between us.
“Has Maya seen a specialist before?”
Claire rubbed her forehead.
“Yes.”
My heart seemed to stop.
“When?”
“A few months ago.”
I laughed once, but there was nothing funny in it.
“You told me she was constipated.”
“I thought it was nothing at first.”
“You took her to a specialist.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn't tell me.”
Claire's voice became smaller.
“I didn't want to frighten you.”
“Frighten me?”
My voice rose.
“You let me think our daughter was complaining about stomachaches while you took her to a specialist behind my back.”
Claire glanced toward Maya's room.
“She asked me not to tell you.”
That stopped me.
“Maya asked you?”
Claire nodded.
“She was scared.”
“So you listened to a fifteen-year-old and kept her medical situation from her father?”
“She thought you'd panic.”
“I should have panicked.”
Dr. Bennett stepped between us before the argument could grow louder.
“This isn't the time.”
I looked at him.
“When was her last scan?”
Claire hesitated.
“Six weeks ago.”
“Six weeks?”
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
“What did it show?”
She didn't answer.
Dr. Bennett's expression sharpened.
“Claire?”
“A small growth,” she whispered.
I stared at her.
“A small growth?”
“It was supposed to be monitored.”
“Supposed to be?”
Claire wiped beneath one eye.
“The doctor said it could be hormonal.”
“And now?”
Dr. Bennett answered.
“Now it appears substantially more concerning.”
I looked through the glass panel in the door.
Maya was still lying on the bed.
Nia was sitting beside her.
My daughter looked impossibly young.
All I could think about was every evening I'd come home and asked, “How was school?”
And every evening Claire had apparently known there was something growing inside our child.
I walked back into the room.
Maya's eyes opened.
“Dad?”
I took her hand.
“I'm here.”
She looked past me.
“Are you and Mom fighting?”
“No.”
Claire entered behind me.
Maya's gaze fell immediately.
“You told him.”
Claire froze.
“What?”
“You said you wouldn't tell him until after Christmas.”
My stomach dropped.
I slowly turned toward Claire.
“Until after Christmas?”
Maya realized what she'd said.
Her eyes filled.
“I'm sorry.”
I crouched beside her.
“Baby, look at me.”
She did.
“What were you afraid I'd do?”
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Claire said, “Maya, you don't need to answer that.”
I stood.
“Actually, she does.”
Claire's face hardened.
“Not tonight.”
“Yes. Tonight.”
Dr. Bennett returned with a nurse.
“We're preparing her for an urgent procedure.”
I nodded.
“What can I do?”
“Sign the consent forms.”
Claire reached for them.
“I'll do it.”
I took the clipboard first.
“I'll sign.”
Her hand stayed suspended in the air.
“Marcus.”
“You've made enough decisions alone.”
She looked at me like I'd slapped her.
Dr. Bennett glanced between us.
“Let's keep Maya's care at the center of this.”
“I agree,” I said.
Claire didn't.
She walked toward the window and stared at the parking lot.
A few minutes later, Dr. Bennett returned.
“We're going to take her upstairs.”
Maya squeezed my fingers.
“Will you be there when I wake up?”
“Yes.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Claire stepped toward the bed.
Maya flinched.
It was barely noticeable.
A tiny movement.
But I saw it.
Claire saw me see it.
“Maya?” I said quietly.
She looked at me.
“What happened?”
She shook her head.
“Nothing.”
I didn't believe her.
The nurses wheeled her toward the operating area.
I walked beside her until the double doors appeared.
Then Maya whispered something so softly I almost missed it.
“Dad…”
“What?”
“Mom has the envelope.”
“What envelope?”
Her eyes shifted toward Claire.
“The one with my test results.”
The doors closed.
I turned around.
Claire was standing twenty feet behind me.
May you like
Her handbag hung from her shoulder.
And suddenly, I knew exactly where I was going to look.