Chapter 10 - Beyond the Horizon
Three years later, the waiting room at the pediatric oncology wing of St. Jude’s was filled with a very different kind of energy.
Marcos, now nineteen and sporting a clean fade haircut and a mechanic’s uniform bearing the name SILVA & SONS AUTO, leaned against the reception desk, tapping his fingers nervously against a clipboard.
Across the room, a tall, healthy thirteen-year-old boy with a sharp haircut, a bright red hoodie, and a stack of sketchpads under his arm was laughing with the head nurse while she signed off on his final discharge paperwork.
Remission confirmed. Five-year milestone reached.
Dr. Alan Sterling walked out of his private office holding a thick medical chart, walking over to Marcos with a warm, broad smile stretching across his face.
"Well, Mr. Silva," Dr. Sterling said, extending his hand. "I officially have nothing left to treat here. Tomás’s blood work is cleaner than mine, and his growth charts indicate he’s going to end up taller than you by next year."
Marcos shook the doctor’s hand firmly, feeling a massive wave of emotion rise in his chest that he swallowed down with a quick nod. "Thank you, Doctor. For everything. Especially for looking the other way when I brought him smuggled tacos from down the street."
Dr. Sterling chuckled. "Confidentiality between physician and guardian, Marcos. Confidentiality."
Tomás walked over, holding a framed certificate of completion that the hospital staff had given him. He looked up at Marcos—who was now only a few inches taller than him—with an expression of deep, abiding pride.
"We did it, didn't we?" Tomás asked quietly.
Marcos looked down at his brother, remembering the pale, terrified little boy in Room 214 who had asked if he was going to leave him behind. He reached out, gently messing up Tomás’s curls the way he used to do when they were kids.
May you like
"We did it," Marcos said softly.
They walked out of the hospital doors together into the bright, open afternoon sunlight of Chicago. The sky above was vast and completely clear, stretching out endlessly toward the horizon—a horizon that belonged entirely to them.
