Page 110 of The Gathered Fragments of Us
I answered, "Hey Morrison, we're heading out to drop Macy at the bus stop. Can we call you right back together?" I caught Felicity's eye and she nodded, shuffling Macy out to the door so we could walk her to the corner.
"Yeah. That works. Call me back soon though, it's important."
"Okay. Will do."
As soon as we were alone, Felicity and I called Morrison back together, putting the phone on speaker as usual. He answered and his voice sounded different. More serious, if that was possible.
"Hey—thanks for calling me back," he answered.
"Of course. What's up?"
"Honestly, I'm actually already almost to your house. I'll be pulling into your driveway in just a couple minutes. We can talk when I get there."
I looked at Felicity, my head rearing back a bit at the surprise I felt from his words. "Okay, we'll be here." I hung up and grabbed Felicity's hand.
"Let's head back inside. It feels like this is going to clearly be bigger than something we talk about while standing in the driveway."
Felicity texted her boss to let her know that she'd be late in. I did the same with Lauren and asked her to reschedule my morning meetings—just in case.
When Morrison arrived, he looked like he'd aged five years since our dinner earlier in the week. He declined Maliyah's offer of coffee and asked if we could speak privately.
We settled in the living room, the kids' laughter from the backyard creating an odd juxtaposition to Morrison's somber expression.
"I got a call from the medical team at McLean this morning," he began. "Jessica's been undergoing a series of tests—blood work, psychological evaluations, brain scans."
"And?" Felicity prompted when he paused.
"They found something. A mass in her brain. Specifically, in her frontal lobe."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "A mass?"
"The preliminary diagnosis is Glioblastoma." She had a Glioblastoma? What the hell does that mean? My fingers were itching to Google it.
Morrison continued after he let the news sink in. "It's an aggressive brain tumor in her frontal lobe. It can cause exactly the kinds of behavioral changes Jessica's been experiencing. The paranoia, the erratic behavior, the poor judgment—it all fits."
Felicity's hand found mine. "Is it... is it treatable?"
Morrison's expression told us everything we needed to know before he spoke.
"Well, Glioblastomas are aggressive. Depending on the size and location, the prognosis can range from months to a couple ofyears. They're still running tests to confirm the grade, but… they already know it’s in her frontal lobe, and it’s large. With how far it’s spread into surrounding brain tissue, the doctors believe it’s likely inoperable."
Leaning back, he dropped an even heavier bomb. "If it’s inoperable, you should know we’re looking at months instead of years."
"But it's not good," I finished.
"No. It's not good." Morrison blew out a breath and looked at us both, saying, "I wish I had better news for you."
We sat in silence for a moment, the sound of children playing outside suddenly feeling surreal.
"What does this mean legally?" I asked, my mind already racing through implications.
"It complicates things significantly. If Jessica's behavior over the past months—including the embezzlement and the kidnapping—was influenced by an undiagnosed brain tumor, it changes the legal landscape entirely."
"Changes it how?"
"Well, it raises questions about her mental capacity at the time of the crimes. It doesn't excuse what happened, but it could affect sentencing. And regarding custody..." Morrison paused. "Given her diagnosis, it's possible she'd never be in a position to care for Macy again."
I felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness. It felt wrong, but I had a sense of relief that Macy's custody situation would likely be resolved definitively. Then, I had an immense sadness because, despite everything Jessica had put us through, shewas still Macy's mother—she was still someone I used to have feelings for. And now she was dying.
