*Authors note: as a daughter of a breast cancer and colon cancer survivor, I have chosen to write this story. Even though the events in this story may unfold differently than your story, Mommy this is for you. My survivor.*

I knew it was bad when Emma walked through the door, dragging her feet behind Mom and Dad.
Their faces were expressionless, but when I met Emma's brown eyes, a shade lighter than my own, I could tell that the appointment didn't go well.
It was surprising when Emma started to complain that she wasn't feeling well. Emma never got sick. I was the one who was always at the doctor, sick with this and that. Not Emma. Never Emma.
So why now?