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“Ms. Brookes, the treatment wasn’t a guarantee. It was a hope. It had a small chance of working—something we conversed about when you came to my office to discuss it originally,” Dr. Richard Smyth interjects.
Dick, is the first thought that comes to mind, as it was three months ago when he told me I had thirty days to get the money for my mother to even receive the medicine she’s on since it wasn’t covered under her insurance plan. I waved my hand back and forth. “Can you answer a simple question?”
“If it’s possible.” The doctor’s eyes drift again to my legs, which are shown to their best advantage in my work uniform and heels. I hear Mama crying softly behind me, and between that and the lecherous look in front of me, I want to hurl. Honestly, I don’t give a flying fuck he’s staring at my tits. If he wasn’t, he’d have long left the room and fobbed me off on one of his minions. I’d never have learned the full details behind why this supposed new FDA miracle drug failed in my mother’s case.
Clearing my throat so Dr. Smyth does his best to raise his eyes above my breasts. “You indicated my mother was an excellent candidate for the medication.”
“Yes, but…”
“But what?” I asked.
“The cancer had already metastasized.” A look of empathy crosses over his face when he addresses my mother. “I’m sorry, Helen. There must have been a lesion that didn’t come up initially in your PET scan. You need to make plans—sooner rather than later.”
My heart stops pumping fire and instead ices over in fear, afraid to ask what he means. Instead, I spin, wrapping my arms around my mother, rocking her back and forth as sobs wrack her body. I hiss at Dr. Smyth, “I-I thought you’d told me she had a chance.”
Was it my own naivety that believed that she could be saved if I just sacrificed enough for her? After all, didn’t I prove there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to save my mother’s life? Judging by the doctor’s face, my beliefs were a complete fallacy made up in my own mind.
He confirms my thinking. “Because of the lateness in her diagnosis, she’s barely able to tolerate the therapy as it is.”
My mother, showing she’s the stronger of the two of us, asks, “How much longer do I have?”
He hesitates. “It’s different for each patient. All I can say is time is of the essence.”
While I absorb these awful truths, my mother clings to me. Unwilling to let her go, our heartbreak collides as our mingled tears drip down our faces.
Dr. Smyth’s head twists and his jaw tics. “This is the part of my job I despise—when the science of medicine is supposed to work and it abysmally fails.” With those words, he exits the room, leaving heartbreak and destruction in his wake.
“Fallon? Fallon, did you hear what I said?” Charlene waves a hand in front of my face.
I jerk out of my reverie. “I’m sorry. I zoned out for a moment. Let me see if I got everything. You would like to start with the tapestry room, then move to the Winter Garden to decorate?”
“Yes.” She goes on to explain the general process of how we start decorating the enormous mansion beginning in mid-October for the festive holiday season, but I’m about as far from the holiday spirit as a person can be.
I’m feeling so alone. Surreptitiously, I glance down at my phone after giving it a nudge to wake it from sleep.
Nothing. Still nothing from Ethan.
Where is he?
What is going on?
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
KENSINGTON, TEXAS
Who knew my cell phone was haunted? #ghosted
—@PRyanPOfficial
#lesigh Here we go again.
—@CuteandRich3
Ignore.
I press the button to decline Fallon’s call again. My fingers resume dancing across the keyboard as I unearth more information about Devil’s Lair. As I do, my fury swells with her even as disappointment mounts simultaneously. The only thing preventing my heart from being crushed beneath the weight of these opposing emotions is the job I was hired to do—the contract work for Thorn. Still, one question out of a million keeps pushing past the block I’ve thrown up.
“What the fuck would possess her to do this? She’s never going to shed the humiliation that’s going to be attached to her for the rest of her damn life when this comes out.” The words are out of my mouth as I glare at my computer screen.