The Final Frame: Leaving My Family Behind Chapter 2

Early the next morning, I took my bank card and went straight to the hospital.

The smell of disinfectant filled the long corridors.

I sat on a waiting chair opposite the cashier’s window, clutching the payment voucher tightly in my hand.

Seven thousand dollars.

That was the out-of-pocket cost for the genetic panel required before entering the clinical trial.

"Clara, spots in this program are extremely rare," the oncologist had told me yesterday. "If you miss this chance, you might not..." He paused, sighing softly. "If another suitable trial opens up later, I'll reach out right away."

Six months ago, on the day I was first diagnosed, I dropped my pathology reports, hospital admission notices, and chemo schedules into the family group chat.

I sent updates after every follow-up and every treatment recommendation since.

Yet outside of asking me for money or running errands, not a single person in that chat had ever bothered to open my medical files.

I stood up, walked to the counter, and slid my bank card under the glass. "Hello, I'm here to pay the deposit."

The card held eight thousand dollars, the total savings from two years of night-shift stocking at the grocery store.

The machine whirred, printing out the receipt. I folded it carefully and slipped it deep into my coat pocket.

The moment I stepped out of the hospital, my legs buckled.

I had to lean against a concrete planter for a long time, catching my breath before I could walk to the bus stop.

* * *

By the time I made it home, darkness had fallen.

Daxton sat at the dining table with his dinner bowl pushed aside, his eyes red from crying.

He clutched his hair, whining loudly.

"I don't care! The soles on my old sneakers are coming completely apart! The regional trials are tomorrow!

“If I don't get air-cushioned shoes, the recruiters won't even look at me!"

Mom brought out a steaming dish from the kitchen, sighing softly.

"Don't panic, Daxton. I'll pop over to the neighbors tomorrow morning to see if I can borrow some cash..."

Yvonne looked up from painting her nails, rolling her eyes. "Didn't Clara just get paid? She lives at home and eats our food, it's not like she has any real expenses."

Several pairs of eyes turned toward me at the front door, taking my help for granted.

I walked over to the table and pulled out my phone.

My thumb hovered over the transfer button for a long moment before pressing confirm.

Considering it my final purchase of peace and quiet, I transferred it.

Nobody asked about my medical tests. Nobody noticed I could barely stand.

Ping!

Daxton's phone buzzed on the table.

He blinked, grabbed the phone, and his eyes instantly lit up.

"One thousand dollars! Clara, where did you get this kind of money?"

Every gaze in the living room locked onto me.

I forced a faint smile. "The store was short-staffed this week. I picked up extra night shifts and earned a bonus. Go buy your sneakers."

Daxton let out a wild cheer, sprang out of his chair, and rushed over to give me a hasty, careless hug.

"You're the best sister ever! I'm going straight to the mall. I'm taking the MVP spot tomorrow!"

He practically dashed out the front door.

Mom breathed a sigh of relief, a smile returning to her face.

"Clara is always so thoughtful. This match means everything for your brother's future. As a family, we have to back him up."

She paused, adding offhandedly, "Don't push yourself too hard at work, though. Night shifts aren't good for a girl's health."

Dad gave an approving nod. "Clara is growing up, learning to share the family's burden. Once I get paid next week, I'll pay you back."

I didn't say a word. I turned around and walked quietly to my bedroom.

Sitting on my bed, I pulled up the hospital portal, staring at the ‘Cancel Enrollment & Process Refund’ button for a long time.

Finally, I tapped it.

The moment I shut the screen, the nurse's station called my phone.

"Clara Miller? Our system shows you just filed a cancellation request. Tomorrow is the final deadline."

The nurse's voice was gentle with concern. "If you confirm the cancellation, your spot will be passed to the next patient on the waiting list."

A lump caught in my throat. "I'm sorry," I choked out. "Something came up at home... Please give the spot to someone else."

I ended the call and opened my social media account.

Just for me to see Daxton's social media feed.

He had just posted a photo of his new basketball shoes.

[Battle gear secured. Shout out to the best sister in the world. Watch me tear up the court tomorrow.]

Yvonne had already commented.

[That's my brother! Go get 'em tomorrow, I'll be cheering for you.]

Both Mom and Dad had liked the post.

I closed the app and looked over at the closet.

The dress Yvonne borrowed had been returned by the dry cleaner, covered in protective plastic, hanging in the most prominent spot.

Yvonne pushed the bedroom door open, holding an iced smoothie out to me.

"Clara, I got the dress dry-cleaned," she said casually. "Since you barely leave the house anyway, you don't mind if I borrow it a few more times, right?"

She handed me the drink. "Here, this is for helping out with Daxton today."

I looked past her shoulder at the empty shoe box sitting in the hallway. I took the smoothie and spoke softly.

"It's fine."

It wasn't like I had much of a future left anyway.