Page 19 of Doc's Decision

“Look, is there anything you can do? Anything at all?” I spit out, hating the desperation in my voice.

Janice hesitates. “Well, there is one thing . . .”

“What’s that?” I ask, not liking where this is going, but I’m desperate enough to hear her out.

“This facility is ill-equipped to handle her needs anymore. She . . . she needs more specialized care. Care that we simply can’t provide her with here.” Janice takes a deep breath before continuing, “However, there is . . . an experimental treatment, a trial, being held at a private facility for patients in a similar state as your mother’s. It’s risky, but it’s her only shot.”

Yeah, okay, right.

I can’t hold back my scoff because this sounds like a fucking scam to me. “And what’s the catch?”

Nothing in life is ever free, especially not miracles.

“The catch,” Janice says, her gaze dropping to the floor, “is that it is a trial, so while this is regulated, it could put her overall health at risk. Regardless, if you don’t want her in the trial . . . I do believe it would be in your best interests to transfer her to another facility. You’ve barely come to see her, and it’s obvious to me and her team that when you have been around, her health spikes up for a bit.”

The room seems to spin around me.

The last thing I want is for my mother, my last remaining family, to be reduced to a lab rat in some sick experiment.

But, there’s something else I can do here . . . I can get her moved to another facility, and I will.

If it helps Ma, I’ll make sure it fucking happens.

Inhaling deeply, I look right into Janice’s eyes. “Can you give me a list of recommended facilities within half an hour of Las Vegas, Nevada?”

CHAPTER FOUR

Mandy

I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror as I apply a layer of cherry red lipstick.

It’s been two weeks since Doc kissed me on the forehead that night when he had to go visit his mother’s long-term care facility.

There were two weeks of radio silence between us, and not a word was spoken about what happened.

Part of me wonders if he regrets it if he wishes he could take it back.

The other part of me hopes he’s just too shy or embarrassed to bring it up again.

Sighing, I put the lipstick down and fluff my curled, now brunette hair.

Why am I even overthinking this so much?

It was just a peck on the forehead, not some hot and heavy make out session.

Still, it felt intimate in a way I’m not used to, especially not with Doc.

Grabbing my purse, I head out to the living room. “Shnookums! Where are you, you little furball?” I call out in a sing-song voice.

A pathetic meow answers me, and I spot my scraggly rescue cat curled up on the couch, his patchy fur sticking up at odd angles.

The poor thing has been through hell, diagnosed with bone cancer, and only given a year to live.

That was two years ago.

Now, he spends his days hopped up on kitty painkillers, living the high life.

“Time for your meds, buddy,” I coo, scooping him up to administer the liquid medication.

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