I finally moved. I leaned forward, buried my face in my hands, and sobbed my heart out. I cried and cried and I got colder and colder and colder.
And then I got mad.
It started as a tiny spark in the darkness, out in the middle of that void where nothing should have been able to survive. I snatched at itand it burned me, but that was fine. Pain was good. Pain was better than nothingness. I squeezed it between my palms and felt it grow.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’tfuckingfair.
The spark had lit a fire. Fourteen years of memories of Kayley, of love, of affection...it all stood like a dense, tinder-dry forest that didn’t catch fire so much as explode. I sat upright in one sudden move and said, “No.”
“I’m sorry?” said Dr. Huxler.
“I said,no!This thing’s going to kill her and you justgive upand offer me a fucking book?No!There has to be something you can do.”
There was real pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry. There isn’t.”
I stood up, the anger carrying me. “Well youfind something!” I yelled. “Because I’m not going to tell a fourteen year-old girl she’s not going to make fifteen!”
I had to get out of there. My anger was red hot but I knew it would run out and I didn’t know what would happen when it did. I couldn’t go back out into the hallway because Kayley was there. So I threw open the doors onto Dr. Huxler’s little balcony.
Outside, as if to mock me, the sky was blue and the sun was pleasantly warm. Eighteen million people down there were grinning and chattering and going about their business as if this was a normal day. Kayley’s passing wouldn’t even leave a dent in their world.
I pressed my stomach against the railing at the edge of the balcony and leaned forward just a little. We were five floors up. How long would it take, before I hit the ground? Ten seconds, maybe? Ten seconds to think and fear, before I stopped thinking altogether. That would be a hell of lot more manageable than six months.
But then I’d be leaving Kayley on her own to deal with this. No way.
So I stood there, hands clenching and unclenching on the railing, until Dr. Huxler came to stand next to me. I already knew what he was going to say: that my anger and denial were normal, a part of the process.
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay what?”
He didn’t look at me, just stared out over the city. “I’m not in the business of offering false hope,” he told me. “Sometimes, not every option is appropriate.”
I grabbed his arm with both hands. For the first time since he’d broken the news, I felt the hole inside me flicker. A tiny, tantalizing glimpse of a future where Kayley still existed. “What?”
“There’s an experimental treatment in Switzerland. They’ve been having good results.”
“Then let’s do it! Why are we even talking about this?”
Now he turned to look at me. “It costs half a million dollars. Kayley’s insurance won’t cover it. These people cater to the super-rich. They expect payment in advance: they won’t let you run up a bill.”
Money? It came down to money?That’swhat was going to determine my sister’s future? I stood there staring at him for a moment. “How long do I have to find the money? You said you could give her six months. Could we start the Swiss treatment at theendof that time?”
He sighed. He must have thought I was crazy...but he didn’t want to give up on her any more than I did. “If I really maxed out the chemo...then in theory, yes.”
I nodded.
“Louise...I have to caution you on this. Six months was themaximum.Stretching out Kayley’s time to that...it’s going to make it rough on her. Treatments almost every day—she’s going to be in the hospitala lot.It isn’t what I’d normally do. Normally I’d suggest a balance between extending her time and making her comfortable.”
I got what he was saying. By clinging on to this one slim chance, I was ruining Kayley’s remaining time. Was I just being selfish? Wouldn’t it be better to just enjoy our time together and let her slip away, three or four or five months from now?
No.I wasn’t giving up on her.
“I’ll find the money,” I told Dr. Huxler firmly. “Give me six months.”
And then I walked straight through his office and out into the hallway. Before he could try to change my mind.
