Remission
Sedona's POV
My doctor came into my ward at nine. I knew it was discharge news before he said anything, because he was carrying the folder differently, less with urgent care and a bright smile on his face, blinding as he set his eyes on me.
He sat down in the chair beside my bed, which he did whenever he wanted to talk to me casually as he opened my folder, looked at the report inside and then looked at me with a pleased look,
"Your markers this morning," he said.
"Tell me."
He turned the folder so I could see the graph myself as I saw the line, the one that I had been watching for two months straight that told me where my life laid, the one that had been going down and down, with every passing day, at a snail space had suddenly gone down further than the red line that was
