The hardest part of fighting isn't the battle itself—it's the silence that follows, when you're waiting to find out if you won.
February crawled by in a haze of recovery and anticipation.
Sarah's body, pushed to its absolute limit by four rounds of chemotherapy, struggled to bounce back. The nausea lingered longer this time. The exhaustion was deeper. She spent most days on the couch, dozing fitfully, barely able to eat.
"This is normal," Dr. Patel assured them during a follow-up appointment. "Her body has been through tremendous stress. It needs time to heal. By March, she should start feeling significantly better."
"And the scans?" Sarah asked.
"Scheduled for March 15th. CT and PET scan to confirm remission. If everything looks clear, we'll move to the monitoring phase—regular checkups every three months for the first two years."
"And if it doesn't look clear?"
Dr. Patel's expression was kind but honest. "Let's cross that bridge if we come to it. But based on how you've responded to treatment, I'm optimistic."
Optimistic.
Not certain. Not guaranteed.
Just optimistic.
It would have to be enough.
Mid-February brought another kind of waiting.
Ethan checked his email obsessively, refreshing every few hours, looking for the message from TechVenture.
We'll be making our final decisions by mid-February.
It was February 12th.
Then 13th.
Then 14th.
Valentine's Day arrived, and Vanessa insisted they celebrate despite everything.
"We need normal moments," she said when Ethan protested. "Not everything has to be about cancer and stress and waiting."
She'd made reservations at a small Italian place near campus—nothing fancy, but nice enough that Ethan felt underdressed in his cleanest jeans and the same borrowed button-down from his interview.
"You look great," Vanessa said when she picked him up. She wore a simple dark blue dress that made her eyes even more striking.
"You look incredible."
"I know." She grinned. "Come on. Our reservation is at seven."
Dinner was perfect in its simplicity.
They talked about classes—Vanessa was taking a literature seminar she loved, Ethan was deep into a databases course that was kicking his ass. They talked about nothing important—favorite movies, worst childhood haircuts, whether pineapple belonged on pizza (Vanessa said yes, Ethan said absolutely not).
For two hours, they were just a normal couple on a normal date.
No sick mothers. No controlling mothers. No financial stress or impossible decisions.
Just them.
"Thank you," Ethan said as they walked back to his apartment afterward. "For tonight. For making me take a break from everything."
"You needed it. We both did." Vanessa linked her arm through his. "Besides, I wanted to celebrate."
"Celebrate what?"
"Us. Making it this far. Surviving everything that's tried to tear us apart." She stopped walking and turned to face him. "Ethan, do you know how many people told me this wouldn't last? My mother, Madison, even Sophie at first. They all said it was just a phase, that I'd get bored or you'd get overwhelmed or the differences between us would be too much."
"Are they right?"
"No. They're so incredibly wrong." She took both his hands. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. The most real, most important thing in my life. And I wanted tonight to be about celebrating that."
Ethan kissed her—soft and slow and full of everything he couldn't quite put into words.
When they pulled apart, Vanessa was smiling.
"Happy Valentine's Day."
"Happy Valentine's Day."
They walked the rest of the way hand in hand, the February cold forgotten.
February 17th brought the email Ethan had been waiting for.
He was in the library, supposedly studying for his databases midterm, when his phone buzzed.
Subject: TechVenture Summer Internship Program - Decision
His heart stopped.
He stared at the notification, too afraid to open it.
What if it was a rejection? What if all the planning, the hope, the imagining a way forward—what if it was all for nothing?
His phone buzzed again. Vanessa.
Vanessa: Did you get it???
Ethan: Email just came. Haven't opened it yet.
Vanessa: OPEN IT
Ethan: I'm scared
Vanessa: Open it anyway. I'm calling you in 30 seconds.
Ethan took a deep breath and clicked the email.
Dear Ethan Cross,
Congratulations! We are pleased to offer you a position in the TechVenture Summer Internship Program.
He stopped reading.
Congratulations.
Offer.
He'd gotten it.
He'd actually gotten it.
His phone rang immediately.
"Well?" Vanessa demanded before he could even say hello.
"I got it."
"YOU GOT IT! Ethan, oh my God, you got it!"
"I got it," he repeated, the reality finally sinking in. "I'm going to Silicon Valley."
"You're going to Silicon Valley!" She was practically screaming. "I'm so proud of you! When does it start?"
Ethan scrolled down through the email.
Program dates: June 10th - August 30th
Stipend: $2,000/month
Housing: Provided (shared apartment with other interns)
Start date: June 10th, orientation begins June 9th
Wait.
Housing provided.
He read it again to make sure.
Housing: Provided (shared apartment with other interns)
That changed everything.
If housing was covered, that meant the $2,000 monthly stipend was actually available for food, transportation, and—if he was careful—sending money home.
"Ethan? You still there?"
"Yeah, sorry. Just reading the details. Housing is provided. I didn't know that from the website."
"That's amazing! That means the stipend actually goes to living expenses."
"Yeah." His mind was already calculating. $2,000 a month. If he was really careful—really, really careful—he could maybe send $600-700 home each month. That would help with his mother's medical bills, with groceries, with Lily's expenses.
It wouldn't be comfortable. He'd have to cut corners everywhere. But it was possible.
"When do you leave?" Vanessa asked.
"June 9th. Right after finals."
"So you'll be gone all summer."
"Yeah. The whole summer between junior and senior year."
The reality of it hit them both simultaneously.
Three months. An entire summer. Across the country.
Right when his mother would still be recovering. Right when they'd finally have time together without the stress of classes.
"We'll make it work," Vanessa said, her voice suddenly smaller. "Long distance. Video calls. We can do this."
"We can do this," Ethan echoed.
But neither of them sounded entirely convinced.
That evening, Ethan told his mother about the internship.
Sarah was having a good day—she'd managed to eat a full meal for the first time in weeks and was sitting up on the couch, looking more like herself.
"Silicon Valley?" Her face lit up. "Ethan, that's wonderful!"
"It's three months. June through August. The whole summer before senior year."
"I know. That's a long time." She took his hand. "But it's an incredible opportunity. You have to take it."
"But you'll still be recovering. And the medical bills—"
"Will still be here when you get back. Ethan, this is your future. Your career. You can't pass this up because of me."
"But—"
"No buts. I'm telling you to go. Lily and I will be fine."
Lily, who'd been listening from the kitchen, spoke up. "I can help more. Get a summer job, take care of Mom—"
"You are not getting a summer job," Sarah said firmly. "You're sixteen. You should be enjoying your summer."
"But if Ethan's gone and you're still recovering—"
"Then I'll manage. I'm not helpless." Sarah's voice softened. "Girls, I appreciate that you both want to take care of me. But I'm the mother. Taking care of you is my job. Not the other way around."
"Kind of hard to do that from the couch," Lily muttered.
"Lily Marie Cross—"
"I'm just saying. You're sick. Ethan's leaving. Someone has to step up."
"I'll be here," Vanessa said quietly from the doorway.
Everyone turned to look at her.
"Sorry, I let myself in. The door was unlocked." She stepped into the living room. "But I meant what I said. I'll be here. This summer. I can help."
"Vanessa, you don't have to—" Ethan started.
"I know I don't have to. I want to." She looked at Sarah. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to check in regularly. Help with groceries, appointments, whatever you need. I don't have any real summer plans anyway."
"What about your family?" Sarah asked.
"They can survive without me for a summer. Ethan's family can't."
Sarah's eyes filled with tears. "Sweetheart, that's incredibly kind. But I can't ask you to—"
"You're not asking. I'm offering." Vanessa's voice was firm. "You're important to Ethan, which makes you important to me. And I'm not going to let him miss this opportunity because he's worried about you."
"See?" Sarah looked at Ethan. "Everything will be fine. You have to go."
Ethan looked around the small living room—at his mother, still pale and weak but fighting. At his sister, trying so hard to be grown-up when she should still be allowed to be a kid. At Vanessa, offering to shoulder burdens that weren't hers to carry.
"Okay," he said finally. "Okay. I'll go."
"Good." Sarah smiled. "Now tell me everything about this internship."
The next few weeks passed in a blur of preparation and recovery.
Sarah slowly, gradually started to feel better. By late February, she could walk around the block without getting winded. By early March, she could make dinner without needing to rest afterward.
The color returned to her face. Her appetite came back. She started to look less like a cancer patient and more like his mother again.
"I feel almost human," she said one morning in early March. "Weak and tired, but human."
"You look good, Mom."
"Liar. I look like I've been through chemotherapy. Because I have." But she was smiling. "But I feel better. And that's what matters."
March 15th was marked on the calendar in red.
Scan day.
The day they'd find out if the chemotherapy had worked. If the cancer was gone. If Sarah would get to keep fighting or if this was just the beginning of another battle.
Ethan tried not to think about it.
But it was impossible not to.
Everything hinged on those scans.
His mother's future. The family's stability. Whether the past four months of hell had been worth it.
The internship suddenly felt both more important and less important at the same time.
More important because if the scans were clear, his mother would be okay, and he could go to Silicon Valley without guilt.
Less important because if the scans showed something bad, there was no way he was leaving for the summer. Internship be damned.
"What if they find something?" he asked Vanessa one night.
"Then you deal with it. But Ethan, you can't live in the what-ifs. You'll drive yourself crazy."
"I'm already crazy."
"True. But I love you anyway."
He pulled her close. "What am I going to do without you this summer?"
"Miss me terribly. Call me every day. Count down the days until you come back for senior year."
"That's the plan."
"Good plan."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while.
"I'm scared," Ethan admitted. "About the scans. About leaving for the summer. About all of it."
"I know. Me too."
"You're scared?"
"Of course. You're going to be three thousand miles away for three whole months. Your mom's health is uncertain. My mom is still a disaster." Vanessa sighed. "But we're going to get through it. Because we don't have a choice."
"Together?"
"Always together. Even when we're apart."
March 15th arrived cold and gray.
Sarah's scans were scheduled for 9 AM—first the CT scan, then the PET scan. Results would be available within a few days.
Ethan, Lily, and Vanessa all went to the hospital.
Sarah tried to be brave, tried to joke and keep things light. But Ethan could see the fear in her eyes.
This was it.
The moment of truth.
Either the cancer was gone, or it wasn't.
Either the four months of hell had worked, or they'd have to start all over again.
Either Ethan would get to go to Silicon Valley with a clear conscience, or he'd be staying home to help his mother fight another battle.
Sarah disappeared into radiology at 9:15.
And they waited.