Son.After three days of scans, doctors have revealed that his bone cancer has progressed. Four more tumors have been discovered — three in his other leg and one in his pelvis — indicating the disease is still ongoing.

For days on end, the world around Will Roberts seemed to hang in the balance, suspended in a fragile silence.

It’s not peace.

Instead, it was a silent weight pressing down on my chest.

Something that makes each hour seem longer than usual.

Something that forces people to wait.

Waiting for an answer.

Waiting for words that could change everything.

For Will’s family, those two days of scans were more than just medical procedures.

It was a confrontation.

It’s a countdown that isn’t measured in minutes, but in heartbeats.

Will Roberts is a boy who has suffered more loss than most people experience in a lifetime.

I am battling bone cancer.

A disease that knows no negotiation.

One disease never stops because of compassion.

A few months ago, doctors were forced to amputate part of Will’s leg in a race against the disease.

That’s not an option.

That is mandatory.

A desperate boundary between life and something far darker.

The doctors then continued to pursue the disease, removing cancerous lesions in the pelvis and femur.

Each surgery carries a glimmer of hope.

And fear.

And the unspoken understanding that cancer rarely truly disappears.

Now, after a weekend of scans and revised reports, the truth is undeniable.

The news that came out was not what my family had prayed for.

It’s worse.

According to her mother, Brittney, the results showed the appearance of four new spots.

Four.

Dad is on the other leg.

One is in the pelvic region.

In medical literature, they are referred to as “small”.

But in real life, they are enormous burdens.

They are terrifying.

They show the movement of the disease.

Progress.

A disease is still finding refuge in the fragile body of a child.

Doctors say there are no immediate signs of danger, such as the spread to the spine.

But this moment of relief is dangerous.

Just because it’s not immediately dangerous doesn’t mean it’s safe.

It simply means we have to keep waiting.

Observe.

Hold your breath one more time.

A photograph taken in the hospital tells the whole story more clearly than any report.

Will’s body lay stretched out on the bed.

One leg is missing.

The other leg still occupied the entire bed, as if refusing to retract.

It’s a logical challenge.

It’s like trying to hold onto space in a world that’s constantly taking away parts of you.

Brittney tried to joke about it.