III.

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━━ Indigo Rose

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━━ Indigo Rose.
May Fourth, 1 PM. ━━

"Mother!" I shouted across the hallway, hearing my mother rummaging through a drawer in her bedroom very loudly . "What are the plans for today?" I shouted again.

When I don't get an answer, I walk closer to her bedroom and see her still rummaging through her drawers. "Mother?"

"The results are today." She tells me, adjusting her collar. "And then we have a meeting with London's finest book publishing mentor, and he's brought a movie director."

"Oh." I mumble, quite shocked." A new book, I presume?"

"Oh heavens, no." she laughs at me along with the shake of her head. "Book five of Indigo Rose needs to be published as soon as possible, and we want him to do it."

"Oh, how exciting." I fake enthusiasm, watching my mother adjust her pearl necklace. "Fancy a cup of tea?"

"I'm okay dear." She smiles at me, "Go, run along. Get dressed in something nice, then meet me and your father outside."

I nod and bid a goodbye to her, rushing back down the hallway toward my bedroom.

My parents and I have always lived in the United Kingdom, and we've always lived in downtown Manchester in a nice home off the side of the main road.

I enjoyed living in downtown Manchester. Whenever I get the chance, I sneak off to the little shops down the street of my home.

Anyways, I put on a nice maroon skirt along with a long sleep with a collared shirt beneath it. Since my parents are meeting with London's finest book publisher and a movie director, I'd assume I am required to be there.

I put on my flats and rushed down the staircase and said goodbye to the maids in the kitchen, and rushed into the car.

I sit next to my mother who has a bright smile on her face, and she helps me find the buckle for my seat.

"Sit up, Indigo." My dad warned, making me move to make my back straight and held it against the back of the seat.

"Sorry, father."

The car started on the bumpy road, down the long driveway. I looked at the time on my apple watch and saw it was merely One-Thirty which meant we had to be at the hospital soon or else we might be late.

I tapped my knee with my pointer finger anxiously. What happens when something bad is on the results? How will my parents react? How will the public react?

I looked out the backseat window, watching the rain fall and listening to the drops of rain on top of the car.

"Have you talked to Jackson lately, Indigo rose?" My mother spoke up, looking at me with a worried expression.

"Yeah," I nodded, " I just talked to him this morning."

She clapped excitedly, "How amazing! Tell him that he and his family are invited to our celebratory dinner next week."

"On it, mother."

My mother adored my boyfriend Jackson. She loved him in every way, maybe more than me. any chance she got, she would tell us both that we would make amazing babies. (Which I did not want.)

Once I was Eighteen, I was dying my hair my natural brown and changing my style and possibly my name and running away from Manchester as fast as I could. I wanted to get away from my reputation.

But what my parents didn't know won't hurt them, right?

Once we pulled up to the hospital, the driver parked and I could feel the nerves kicking in even more.

My father helped me out of the car and we walked inside the doctor's office, my mother checking my name for me and us all sitting down on the waiting room chairs.

"Hey, it's nothing to worry about." My father said with a smile in an attempt to calm down my nerves.

"Thanks." I said, looking down at my feet and swinging them back and forth.

A couple minutes went by, and the same doctor from last week appeared and called out my last name.

We all stand up in unison, and he silently leads us into one of the back rooms which alarms me tons.

Last week he was energetic and outgoing, and just plainly happy; but this week he's not. Could this mean something?

"Take a seat." he said, no ounce of happiness evident in his voice. "Welcome back all of you, I hope you've had a nice week."

"Thank you, doctor." My father thanked him.

"Okay so we got the results back." He slowly said, alarming me even more. I squeezed my own hand, since my parents weren't even worried about his change in emotion. "And I'm sorry to say this."

I feel tears brim my eyes.

"Your daughter has been diagnosed with stage two breast cancer."

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