From the outside he looked perfect, like any other healthy twenty year old with a full life ahead of him. College, marriage, a family, everything that a child bounced from one foster home to another his whole life craved, all of that should have been in his future.
“One year,” Ethan whispered. “One year.”
He closed his eyes against the overwhelming flood of hopelessness.
He couldn’t believe it. Even though the doctors had shown him images of the mass that was growing virulently in his brain, he could not comprehend what was happening to him.
“Do you have a family history of brain tumors?” He’d been asked.
“I don’t know,” Was all he could answer. How could he explain that he had been dumped off outside of a grocery store at the ripe age of three, clutching an ice cream cone and screaming for his mother? “I don’t have any family history.”
Ethan struck out at the steering wheel, jumping when it beeped in protest.
“I have no family,” he muttered. “I have no family and now I am going to die. I am alone and I’m going to die.”
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