The utility shed was unlocked.
Inside, beside boxes of Christmas decorations, garden tools, paint cans, and a broken lawn chair, was a narrow camping cot.
Naomi was lying on it beneath an old blanket.
I stood in the doorway.
For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.
“You sleep here?”
She sat up.
“Keep your voice down.”
That nearly broke me.
I closed the door behind me.
“Tell me what happened.”
She started crying before she could answer.
Then she lifted her shirt just enough for me to see a scar near the side of her chest.
“I have breast cancer.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“What?”
“Stage three.”
