The doctor had explained that there was still a glimmer of hope in her condition, but the chances were slim—and chemotherapy came with the very real risk that she might not survive the treatment itself.

That was why Jessica refused chemo.

With this conservative approach, at the very least, she could expect another six months.

She reached for her phone and typed out a message.

"Thank you, Doctor. I don't want to take that risk."

The doctor sighed and said, "I'll prescribe you some more medication, then."

Jessica quickly typed another line.

"Thank you. Could you also help keep my diagnosis between us? I don't want my family to worry."

She handed the phone over to the doctor so he could read her words.

It was a lie—and she knew it. Her husband and son were never the type to worry about her. Telling them would only be a wasted effort, so she'd rather not bother.

pity knowing her days

while later, Jessica was wheeled out of the

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

smile and typed out a line

wasn't finished yet, so a

by the bed, her eyes full of concern. "I'll go grab you some

Jessica nodded.

Mabel left quietly.

the ER was located, Timothy stood out on the balcony making a call, arranging a blood transfusion for Sheila. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mabel leaving the building. His gaze darkened for a moment, but then his expression returned to normal as he continued

call button. A nurse

It was Herbert.

the day before. His father was expanding their business into the country, so the whole family had moved back. Their new house was styled after an old English manor, but Mrs.

of Jessica's grandmother, only to learn she had passed away. Others recommended Jessica herself, praising her for inheriting her grandmother's

was why Herbert

would carry on the craft, and Jessica was

hung up the phone, checked the time, glanced at her IV, and estimated when she'd be done before sending Herbert a

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