Page 138 of Break Me

Because once I say the words, nothing will ever be the same again.

"We need to talk to you," I say.

Knox studies my face for a long second. "Rae..."

It's the way he says my name that undoes me.

Not questioning.

Not impatient.

Worried.

"Can we go somewhere private?"

He doesn't ask why. He just stands. "Come on."

We follow him down the hallway toward his office. The television continues behind us, the announcer's voice rising over a big play as though the afternoon hasn't changed.

By the time Knox closes the office door behind us, it feels like we've stepped into another world.

The room is small but familiar, a battered desk against one wall, filing cabinets, a couch that has definitely seen better days.

He turns back toward us. Whatever he sees in my face makes his shoulders go still.

“What is it?” he asks quietly.

“I went to the doctor a few weeks ago,” I say, looking at my brother.

Knox nods once, already impatient. “Okay.”

“I thought I might be pregnant.”

That gets his attention. His brows lift slightly. “And?”

“They ran some tests.”

The silence stretches long enough that his expression begins to harden.

“Raven.”

“I’m sick, Knox.”

He stares at me for a moment before gesturing toward the couch. “Sit down.”

I glance at Sam, then walk over and sit. Sam lowers himself beside me, his hand immediately finding mine again.

Knox stays on his feet for another second before dragging a chair closer and dropping into it, elbows braced on his knees.

“Start talking,” he says.

I take a slow breath, trying to steady something that already feels too big for the room. “I have cancer.”

For a moment, nothing happens. Knox just sits there staring at me. Then, he shakes his head once.

“No.”

The word comes out automatic. Immediate.