I picked it up.
Beneath the title were several paragraphs about helping relatives navigate treatment, difficult decisions, and emotional distress.
At the bottom of the page was a list of services.
One phrase caught my attention.
Genetic counseling and family risk assessment.
I stared at those words.
Then I remembered Vanessa’s tears.
The blue folder.
Eliam’s frightened expression.
And the sentence I had overheard.
I can’t keep doing this behind her back.
Suddenly, a terrible new possibility entered my mind.
What if someone in our family was seriously ill?
What if Eliam had been trying to protect me from a diagnosis?
What if Vanessa was involved because she knew something about our family’s medical history?
I didn’t know.
But I was beginning to understand that I might have been looking at the wrong kind of betrayal.
And I was terrified of what the truth might reveal.
That evening, I waited for Eliam in the living room.
