Page 2 of Isle of Pain

“Yeah, it’s a girl. I know it.”

“Lili, right now, it’s a peanut and not even viable.” I roll my eyes, but Lisa winces and I regret my words. I’d never tell her but I’m already jealous of what’s growing inside her. Despite having everything I could ever ask for, a loving family and protection at all times, Lisa is the only person that never lies to me, never hides from me. She’s the only person that feels like she’s mine. We understand each other without words. She knows when I need her quiet presence or her pink chaos. When I can live vicariously through her as she gets a piercing—which I never had the courage to do—or when I just want to lay my head on her lap while she reads.

We’re deeply entwined. No one gets it. But it’s fine because I have her, and she has me.

“I’m sorry, Lili,” I tell her then kiss her cheek. “What I mean is that you don’t know yet.”

“I do, Mimi,” she says, my nickname making me wince. She’s the only one who uses it. She’s the only one allowed to use it. It’s horrendous. But nothing she does or says can ever be wrong.

Dr Olmeto comes back into the room and rolls a new echogram machine by Lisa’s bedside.

“Miss Moretti, while doing the echo just now, there was some feedback on the screen that I’d like to check more precisely. This,—” She shows a prong with a blunt head that looks like a dildo but with a very thin body. “Is going to allow me to take better images of your vagina, cervix and uterus. Are you okay with that?”

With a nervous nod, Lisa agrees.

“You can remove your jeans and underwear behind this curtain.”

Dr Olmeto motions to the small changing space with her hand and remains turned towards the screen of the beeping machine. I turn around as well as my sister removes her clothes then sits back on the examination table. A sheet is placed over her body and I keep myself angled towards the monitor to give her privacy.

When Dr Olmeto sets out to do her task, the images on this machine are way clearer than the other one but I’m still not sure what she’s looking for.

She shows us the embryo on the screen and Lisa sobs, squeezing my hand. I find myself smiling at the screen. After all, maybe having a little extra piece of my sister is exactly what I need in my life.

I tilt my head to the side. It’s so small.

“I also see a mass and I don’t like the look of it. I’d like to do a biopsy, to make sure nothing’s amiss,” the doctor says.

She sends us home after collecting cells from Lisa’s cervix and endometrial tissue, and prescribing me with the pill. Not that I’ll make use of it but it makes me feel better. I’ll have to make sure not to make myself sick. It hasn’t happened in a while, and won’t matter much if I vomit it into the toilet since I’m a virgin and not planning to fuck anyone, but you never know.

Maybe I’ll meet someone who isn’t in the mafia and Lana will allow me to marry them. One can only dream of escaping their destiny.

The following week,December brings cold winds from the sea as we make our way back to Dr Olmeto’s office. The white walls and stainless steel appliances give me the creeps. I unconsciously shake my right leg, bouncing on the ball of my foot, then trace my fingers over the shape inside the clutch I carry. I’ll get to that soon, thankfully.

“Thank you for coming back, Miss Moretti. Have a seat,” the doctor says, addressing my sister who sits next to me, the portrait of grunge rock fun with her leopard print legging, Dr Martens boots and an oversized flannel shirt draped over a plain white tee-shirt with a massive fuck in the middle. Where I decided to blend in and dress in a conventional black wool dress that accentuates the curves of my body subtly, she sticks out like a sore thumb in the middle of all of the posh high society Sant Armellu women, but she’s still beaming with joy.

Being pregnant looks good on her, I guess.

“The biopsy results came in last night.” Dr Olmeto takes a deep breath in and I brace for what’s next.

I already know.

I didn’t want to believe it.

I let myself get swept up by Lisa’s joy, by covering for her so our family doesn’t discover her secret until she’s ready.

But deep down, I know.

I’m going to lose her.

“You have Stage Two uterine cancer.”

Lisa slaps her hand over her mouth, a mournful sob escaping her.

I’m frozen. My limbs become numb as I listen to Dr Olmeto’s professional voice. “About three percent of all people assigned female at birth that are diagnosed with uterine cancer have what’s called a sarcoma. It’s a rare type of cancer that forms in the muscles or tissues of your uterus.”

She shows us pictures on her desktop but all I can think about is how do we get rid of it.

“Is it operable?” I ask, hearing my own voice as if through a fishbowl.

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