Lungs of Ink

Truth

~Johnathan's POV~
As soon as Samantha closed the door, fear had grown back into me.  Instincts were screaming to take control, but all I could do was sigh and turn around.  Both sisters were quiet.  A cloud of "should I?" was hanging over them.
"How long?"  Agatha spoke up.  She seemed concerned for me, for my sister.  But, what she was asking was concerning.
"How long what..?" I asked with a tone more aggressive than I meant it to be.  I leaned against the wall, concern filling me.  Based off the averages, she has one more year to live.  It was terrifying.
"How long has she had it..?" She responded, her voice getting a bit fearful.  I knew exactly why.
"Five years."  I responded, hesitating ever so slightly.  Suddenly there seemed to be hope in Connie's eyes.  Typical of her, she found the hope in everything,  no matter how bad the situation may be.  
"Hey, that means she has a while!  We have enough time to get her the cure and she'll get better!  If she's survived this long.." she began rambling about the hope.  It lightened the mood in the room, but it dimmed back as soon as Samuel came out of the room.  She instantly stopped talking, all eyes turned to him.
"He wants to read Samantha's writings,  but why I have no clue.." he muttered.  You could see everyone turned confused, even myself.  Almost on que, Samantha came out.
"Notebook.  I need them." She muttered,  looking around the room.  Agatha handed her the backpack, and instantly she began pulling some out.  "I don't think William should read them until he's recovered.." she muttered, beginning to write.
"Why not?  I'm sure someone who's a famous writer would-"
"I think you can fit the clues togeather."  Well, her sass was back, at least.  How she got the strength to speak was shocking, in my opinion.  
The room went silent, the only sounds being the sound of pen dancing across the paper to a quick tempo,  and shuffling from the room that William was in.  Any minute he was going to come out and make everyone worried.  I couldn't help but be worried, seeing the state he was in.  His wife and four year old daughter had recently passed from this, I could only imagine what he was going through right now.
Samantha's pen stopped as soon as he opened the door, brushing himself off and muttering a small apology.  
"Don't be, loss is a difficult thing to deal with."  Samantha spoke up.  He seemed shocked, as if he had forgotten my sister was even there.  He simply nodded, and sat down and grabbed himself some coffee.  There were hushed whispers between three siblings, and Samantha began writing again.  Eventually, William spoke up.
"Y'all can leave if you want."  He said to the trio in a tone that wasn't a suggestion at all, but said in a way that it was going to sound like one.  The three hesitantly left, the talking of concern contenuing.  William then set the mug down, and leaned back, glancing at Samantha.  I know he means the best, but I can't help but feel a wave of protectiveness every time he shows concern for her.  
"What're you writing about?" He asked, trying to make conversation.  It peaked my curiosity as well; she refused to let people know what she was writing about.  Hesitantly, she replied.  You could tell she was conflicted.
"I write down what happened in my coughing fits after they happen.  It's an escape mechanism, and it could be useful in the future."  She responded quietly.  This peaked the interest of both William and I, for different reasons.
"You remember what happens?"  "You told me you couldn't remember!" We both began, resulting in Samantha sighing heavily.
"At first I didn't until recently.." her voice went dry, resulting in more coughing.  Not the kind to get something out of your lungs, but the kind you get when you talk too much after being nervous, resulting in your throat closing, so she got a blank piece of paper and began writing.  She eventually finished and handed it to me.
" 'I didn't remember until recently, and I didn't want to say anything until now for this reason-- you'd freak out.' " I read, sighing.  I would laugh if there wasn't a depressed writer in the room.
You could see William almost ready to ramble, but he eventually calmed himself down.  After what seemed to be hours of silence, even if it was only two minutes, I finally spoke up.  "I think we should go.. thank you for letting us come by, though."
You could see the dissapointment on Samantha's face, but she slowly began packing her things.
"How about I buy you lunch before you two go?"  He offered, sitting up.  Sammy's face lit up.  Rarely did she light up like that anymore, so how could I refuse?
".. Alright, if you insist."
I've never seen Samantha light up so fast, as she rushed up to hug my leg.  It seemed there was a bit of hope for the future.