Chapter 1

The sound of metal wheels rolling down the hallway had become normal to Oriana a long time ago. Gurneys coming and going, nurses speaking in hushed voices. Even the clock across from the chemotherapy room seemed to move slower than the rest of the world.

Oriana sat near the window with a blanket over her legs and a closed book between her hands. Other people waited around her for their turn. An older woman chatted with her husband while he carefully adjusted her IV drip, a small boy slept against his mother's shoulder, and farther off a man argued with his daughter because she insisted on buying him something sweet after the treatment.

It was strange how quickly a person could get used to watching other people's lives.

The nurse appeared holding a clipboard.

"Oriana Perez."

She looked up right away.

"Here."

The nurse smiled with a tired kind of warmth.

"We'll finish up quickly today. How are you feeling?"

Oriana let out a small laugh.

"Do you want the honest answer or the polite one?"

"Honest."

"Like I got hit by a car."

The woman ended up laughing too.

"Then I'll run the medication slow today so you don't get as dizzy."

"I love you a little for that."

Oriana made a dramatic face before standing up slowly from the chair. Her legs hurt more that week and her body felt heavy, as though she'd slept badly for months. She walked to the treatment room without help anyway.

She didn't like seeing herself in the hospital mirrors anymore. Her face was still pretty — or at least that's what the nurses kept saying — but she could barely recognize herself. Her skin was paler, the dark circles deep, and her hair growing back short and uneven after falling out again.

As she settled onto the bed, she heard her phone buzz inside her bag. She grabbed it quickly out of habit, though deep down she already knew it wouldn't be anyone important.

An ad.

Again.

Not a single message.

Not a single call.

Nothing.

She put the phone away slowly and rested her head against the pillow.

At first she'd believed her family would show up sooner or later. Even after leaving university, even after the arguments, she'd kept thinking the anger would fade once they understood she simply didn't want that life.

The Perez family had produced lawyers and businesspeople for generations. Oriana was the brilliant daughter meant to carry on the legacy. Top grades, three languages, a guaranteed future — until one day she dropped everything to study pastry-making.

Her mother stopped speaking to her for weeks.

Her brother said she was embarrassing the family.

And her father — her father just looked at her like he no longer understood who she was.

Then the cancer came and everything got worse.

The visits began to space out. Then came the excuses. Then silence.

Oriana ended up learning something painful: some people know how to stand beside you in success but disappear when your life stops looking pretty.

The nurse connected the treatment while she spoke softly.

"Did you finish the book you were reading?"

Oriana's expression shifted a little.

"Almost. I've got the last chapter left."

"The one about the duke?"

"Yeah."

"It's got you obsessed."

"Because everyone in it suffers horribly."

"That doesn't sound very encouraging."

"But they keep living."

The nurse finished preparing the medication and smiled before stepping out.

Oriana picked up the book again as the treatment began to drip slowly. The cover was slightly bent from being opened so many times. She'd bought the novel by chance at a small shop near the hospital and ended up reading it through entire nights.

The story was about Ender Hall, a duke who lost his sight after a magical accident and was left isolated from the world along with his terrible temper. His fiancee, Priscilla, abandoned him shortly after he went blind, and the story followed the moment he slowly rebuilt his life alongside Rebeca, a kind and patient woman.

Oriana knew it was a simple novel.

She liked it anyway.

Because Ender kept going even when he felt there was nothing good left for him.

Because Rebeca didn't try to save him with empty speeches.

Because the characters' pain felt human.

And because while she read, the fear of dying stopped feeling so heavy.

Several hours passed before she made it back to her small apartment near the hospital. It was raining outside, and climbing the stairs left her breathless halfway up.

"This should count as extreme exercise at this point," she muttered while digging for her keys.

The apartment was small, warm, and full of baking supplies. Books, molds, recipes taped to the fridge, and a box of utensils she could barely use since getting sick.

Sometimes she wondered what it would've been like to open the bakery she'd dreamed about for years.

Maybe a small cafe.

With full display cases.

Tables by the window.

Regular customers.

The sound of a bell every time someone walked in.

She dropped her bag on the couch and walked slowly toward the kitchen to make tea, though she ended up too tired to bother. Her body hurt too much that night.

So she simply settled into bed with the novel in her hands.

The last chapter.

Ender finally accepted smiling again thanks to the people who stayed by his side. Rebeca cried as he asked her to stay with him, and for some reason that made Oriana close the book for several seconds.

She felt a strange knot in her throat.

Not because the scene was sad.

But because she wanted something like that too.

Someone waiting for her.

Someone telling her that staying mattered.

She opened the book again slowly and finished the final pages under the dim lamplight.

When she reached the end, she lay staring at the ceiling in silence.

"So unfair," she whispered with a tired smile. "Even a fictional man had a better love life than me."

She laughed alone after saying it, though the laugh didn't last because she started coughing hard. Her chest burned immediately and she had to cover her mouth while trying to breathe.

The attack passed slowly.

Too slowly.

Her body was shaking by the time she managed to lie back down.

She grabbed her phone on impulse.

No messages.

Not even tonight.

Oriana stared at the screen a few more seconds before turning it off.

And though she tried to stay awake, exhaustion gradually dragged her under.

The rain kept falling outside.

The book stayed open on top of her.

And the room remained completely silent.

The next morning, a nurse assigned to Oriana called her phone repeatedly.

No one answered.

So she went to the apartment. No one opened the door for hours.

When they finally got inside, Oriana was still lying on the bed with a peaceful expression, as if she'd simply fallen asleep while finishing a story she'd liked too much.

She died holding on to the story.

***This work has been signed with NovelToon, and piracy such as reprinting without permission is strictly prohibited.***

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***