"You tell . I need to know what’s wrong with my brother," she said, no preamble, no polite greetings. "I heard enough this morning to know sothing’s wrong, and if you don’t tell , I swear I’ll tear this place down." The doctor hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. "Miss Shepherd... Steve didn’t want anyone to know."
"I’m not anyone," she snapped, her voice breaking. After a heavy pause, Keller sighed and pulled a file from his desk. He didn’t want to breach doctor-patient confidentiality, but Mara was going to break loose of hell if she didn’t get what she wanted, plus he thought family could convince him to take treatnt.
"He was diagnosed a few months ago. It’s a degenerative brain disease. Causes severe, chronic headaches at first... then mory loss. Gradually, the brain starts to... forget basic things. Faces. Words. How to walk, how to eat. There’s no cure."
Mara’s world tilted, the walls closing in.
"No," she whispered. "No, not Steve. He’s... he’s fine, he was fine." Keller didn’t say anything. There was nothing left to say.
Mara left his office in a daze, the diagnosis echoing in her skull like a funeral bell.
Steve was dying. And he didn’t even want to fight. The ache of it settled in her chest. It was too much. Too damn much. But she wasn’t going to let him go down like this.
Not without a fight. Mara didn’t rember the drive ho.
All she knew was one mont she was sitting in the doctor’s office, hearing words no sister should ever have to hear, and the next, she was shoving open the front door of the house like a storm co to life.
"Steve!" she called out, voice sharp, carrying every crack and splinter of her breaking heart. Stefan appeared in the hallway, his face pale. "Stef... don’t—" One look at Mara and he knew she knew.
"Where is he?" she snapped, brushing past him, her hair a wild ss, eyes glossed with unshed tears.
She found Steve on the back patio, sitting alone with a glass of sothing dark in his hand and his gaze lost on the horizon like a man who was already half gone.
Mara stopped at the doorway, her chest heaving. "You knew," she said quietly. "You both knew."
Steve didn’t turn. "I didn’t want this for you."
"Too bad," she bit out, marching toward him. "You don’t get to decide what I can handle, Steve. You don’t get to lie to while you slowly... disappear."
He flinched at that word. Disappear. It was too close to the truth.
"I was trying to protect you."
"From what? Loving you? From holding your stubborn hand together when it all falls apart? You think I wouldn’t notice when you start forgetting things? When your headaches get worse? When you can’t rember the nas of your own damn family, Steve?"
Her voice cracked, a raw sob caught in her throat.
"I can’t..." she whispered. "I can’t lose you, too." Steve finally looked up then, and the pain in his eyes nearly undid her.
"I’m sorry, Stef."
She didn’t wait for another word. She crossed the distance between them and punched him on the shoulder, not hard, but enough to make him grunt.
"I don’t care if it’s a fifteen percent chance or a five percent chance," Mara hissed through her tears, her voice trembling but fierce, the fire in her gut refusing to die.
"We’re doing this. You don’t get to give up on , Steve. You don’t get to look in the eye and tell you’d rather die than fight."
Steve’s eyes were glassy, his jaw clenched so tight she could see the muscle twitching.
"Morissette... I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want to be a shadow of myself. I want to live what days I have left as , not hooked up to wires, not drooling in a hospital bed, not looking at you and not rembering your na."
"I don’t care!" she choked out, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. "I will remind you of my na every single day if I have to. I’ll write it on the damn walls. You don’t get to give up on , Steve. I’ve already lost too many people. I’m not losing you, too."
And for the first ti since she’d burst through that door, Steve’s arms ca around her, pulling her into the kind of big brother hug that made her feel like she was six again.
"I’m sorry, sis," he murmured into her hair. "I’m so, so sorry."
Neither of them noticed the other brother lingering in the hallway, the weight of the truth settling like dust over everything.
Stanley’s mouth went dry as the words registered, his hands shaking. Stanford leaned heavily against the wall, his face pale as paper.
"I-Is it true?" Stanley finally managed to whisper. Steve looked up, his eyes rimd red, and gave a shallow nod. "I didn’t want you guys to know."
And that’s when Stefan bolted. Without a word, without a glance, he turned on his heel and ran out of the house like the walls themselves were closing in.
"Stefan!" Mara called after him, but he was already gone, the front door slamming shut behind him. The silence he left behind was deafening.
Stanford sank onto the stairs, his hands in his hair, trying to process it.
Stanley just stood there, blinking back tears, because the thing no one would say out loud was clawing at all of them now; this family was breaking, piece by piece, and there was no map on how to save it.
Mara wiped at her face, her voice ragged. "We fight. All of us. Together. Do you hear ? I don’t care if it’s fifteen percent. I don’t care if it’s one. We fight."
No one argued. They just nodded, because what else could they do? They were all drowning, but at least they’d drown holding onto each other.
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