I wet my lips. “I didn’t want the disease to define me.”
“It hasn’t. And it won’t.” He looks so grim and determined, his huge form standing between me and death, I almost believe him.
But I’m done with fairy tales. I have to be. For my sanity. It’s time for cold, hard facts.
“How is this going to work? Am I going to go through treatment—here?”
Logan tucks the blanket around me. “I’m starting you on a new treatment. An immunosuppressant. I think the traditional treatment is the wrong course of action. It assumes the deformed blood cells are the drivers of the disease. I think they’re just a symptom.”
Every blood film I’ve viewed dances in my head. Knowing the shape of diseased cells doesn’t lessen the painful sensation in my body. It makes it worse. “But that’s not the accepted model. My father—”
“Is gone. Maybe it’s time to try a new way.”
I’m blank-faced and blinking, thinking through the implications of what Logan just said. This would change the direction of my father’s research—my research.
Logan leans down and touches his lips to mine, breaking the spell. “Trust me, Daphne.”
But all I can think is—he kissed me. Where he was supposed to, on the lips.
His scent surrounds me, a crisp cocktail of his cologne and the clean delicious smell that’s all him. “I’m going to heal you from this current relapse. And then I’m going to cure you.”
“So arrogant,” I whisper, but tingles run down my limbs at his proclamation.
Logan looks like a knight ready to slay a dragon. He cups my face, his shadow falling over me, his presence a comforting cage. I feel small and safe, tucked away in this room, hidden from the world, with Logan at my side to defend me from Death.
I want to close my eyes and give in to his strength. It would be so comforting to let someone else charge into the fight for me. To let Logan lead the front lines. To lay down the standard and rest for once in my life.
But as I look up at Logan, so confident and determined, I can’t help wondering: is this what my father looked like when he made promises to my mother decades ago? When he swore he’d go to the ends of the earth, do anything, to make her better?
That lifelong battle destroyed my father. It eventually turned him into a monster and my mother and I had a front row seat.
How can I let the same tragedy play on repeat, this time starring Logan and myself?
I swore never to turn out like my parents, even before I knew the extent of my father’s…betrayals. What he did to Logan.
“I just got you back,” Logan murmurs, holding me even tighter. “I can’t… I won’t lose you.”
They’re words that are meant to soothe. Instead the uneasiness inside me grows, even as my eyes grow too heavy to stay open and I spiral back into sleep.
Four
Logan
I hurry out the door before the delivery man can ring or bang the knocker.
They’re delivering medical supplies, so you’d think they’d have a clue there might be sick people inside and they should be quiet. But the guy delivering equipment yesterday drove a truck so old, it backfired and woke Daphne up from a nap after it had taken her forever to fall asleep.
I about took the guy’s head off.
I jog down the steps of the front porch to head off any calamities, but the van that pulls in is a sleek, new model that’s so quiet, it has to be electric.
A man in a gray uniform pushes open the front door and I greet him. “Did everything go smoothly with the shipment? When you got it off the truck, was anything broken?”
“No, sir,” says the man. Paul, by his name tag. “I double-checked everything myself.”
I nod and follow him around to the back of the van and, after signing paperwork on the digital clipboard he hands to me, he opens the doors.
I pop open the top of the boxes and run my hands over the brand new, state-of-the-art hematology analyzer and cytology equipment. I’ve been waiting all week to get my hands on these. There are plenty of universities and labs that don’t have such quality machines. But I don’t care about cost. I’ll spare no expense when it comes to Daphne’s life.
I nod again. “They look like they’re in good shape.”
I’ll be able to get much more accurate readings with this equipment and really be able to know if any changes we’re making in Daphne’s treatments are having even the most incremental effect.
“I’ll use the dolly to get them safely inside,” Paul says but I just wave him away. I don’t want anyone else inside the house disturbing Daphne. She’s the lightest sleeper these days.
“No need.” I pick up the large hematology analyzer and heft it in my arms, then head for the door. Paul stands by, his mouth slightly open. He doesn’t offer to carry the other box. A good idea since it probably weighs half as much as he does.
I’m quickly back for the second box anyway. It’s heavier than the first but after a quick trip, I’ve deposited it inside as well and am sending Paul on his way.
It’s another ordeal to get them downstairs and set up in the lab. I’m breaking a sweat by the time I’m done but it feels good. At least this is something tangible that I can do.
Better than sitting around all week watching Daphne suffer and not being able to do a damn thing to fix it.
I meant what I promised her. I’m going to cure her. I’ll be strong enough for both of us.
She just has to trust me…
Like you trusted her?
My hands clench but then my cell phone starts blasting “Down with the Sickness” by Disturbed. I laugh out loud and immediately answer. “When did you change my ringtone?”
Daphne’s wan voice answers, “You must be getting slow in your old age if you didn’t notice me do it.”
I’ve already started out of the lab and am halfway up the stairs. I treasure any time she’s awake and hate to think of her ever lying there in bed all alone. At the same time, I feel the pressure beating at me from all sides. Have to find a cure. Have to find a cure. There’s no time. Daphne’s mother died young.
Even allowing the briefest thought spurs my feet faster and in no time, I’m pushing the door to Daphne’s room open.
“How is my favorite—?” the words die in my throat, though, when I see Daphne spread out on the bed in nothing more than a slip of red lingerie. My mouth goes dry.
“Hi,” she says shyly and wiggles her fingers at me in greeting.
“What are you doing?” I look around, immediately zeroing in on the open window. “Daphne, it’s not safe. Your immune system is compromised right now and we can’t take any chances.” I rush over and shut the window with a harsh bang.
I turn around to head back to the bed so that I can cover Daphne with the thick comforter. But what I’m not prepared for is the fury on her face.
Or the pillow that comes zinging right at my head.
“Wha—?” I yelp before getting smacked right in the face by the pillow. I look at Daphne in bewilderment but she’s just getting more ammunition, ready to launch pillow number two.
“Daph!”