“Sabrina, don’t even talk like that,” said Arthur.
“But I lied to you,” she said. “I said I would be okay, but there’s no point in pretending anymore. I’m probably not going to get better.”
He stared at her in bewilderment.
“I have cancer,” said Sabrina.
“Cancer?” said Arthur.
“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” said Sabrina. “I should have told you sooner, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want it to be real, and as long as I kept it a secret, I could pretend it wasn’t happening. I knew if I talked about it, there wouldn’t be anywhere I could go to get away from it. I don’t want it to define me. When you look at me, I don’t want you to see it. I want you to see me.”
“I do see you,” he said. “I always will.”
He took her face between his hands and kissed her on the forehead.
“You’re trembling,” said Sabrina.
“I know, I just love you so much,” said Arthur. Sabrina heard him struggling to keep his voice calm. “Are you sure it’s cancer?”
“Yes,” said Sabrina. “I’m sure.”
“But you were fine the whole time you were pregnant with Yvonne,” said Arthur. “Wouldn’t the doctors have noticed if something were wrong, especially something like this?”
“Not necessarily,” she said. “I wasn’t having symptoms at that time. It’s difficult to see something if you’re not looking for it. Besides, this type of cancer grows quickly, which is why it’s so serious. It’s already spread all around my body.”
“That was going to be my next question,” he said, looking more terrified each moment. “It sounds bad, but it’s not the end of the world. It’ll just make things a little more complicated for us. You don’t have to be afraid, Sabrina. I’ll be with you every step of the way, and we’ll figure it out like we always do.”
“No, we won’t,” she said. “Don’t you get it? We won’t do anything. You will, though. You’ll figure out how to fall asleep every night in an empty bed. You’ll figure out how to raise four children by yourself. You’ll figure out how to love another woman, or you’ll figure out how to die alone. You won’t have a choice. It’s not going to be easy for either of us, but I wouldn’t trade places with you if you begged me on your knees. There’s nothing worse than being left behind.”
“Sabrina, I’m not worried about myself right now,” he said. “I’m worried about you. Even if the odds are against you, there must be treatments that could help you. We need to come up with a plan.”
“I agree,” she said. “That’s why I asked Andrew for his opinion.”
Everyone waited for Lisa’s father to speak.
“I don’t have any doubts about the diagnosis,” he said. “It’s a typical presentation for this type of cancer. The test results are definitive. Unfortunately, the scans showed several hotspots outside the primary tumor in Sabrina’s liver and spine.”
“So what should we do?” said Arthur.
Sabrina heard the desperation in his voice, but she couldn’t afford to take any chances. Peterson was a sore subject in the family. She had to back Arthur into a corner before he started thinking clearly again, or he wouldn’t allow her to carry out her plan. She hated manipulating him, but she thought she didn’t have a choice.
“Andrew, what sort of mortality rates are we looking at?” she said.
“Considering the characteristics of your particular case, the most recent statistics predict you have a ten percent chance of being alive five years from now,” said Lisa’s father in a dull monotone that made the odds sound even worse than they were. His robotic forecast of her future showed how uncomfortable he was with the interrogation, but Sabrina pressed on relentlessly.
“What would happen to me if I survived that long?” she said.
“The final outcome would be the same,” said Lisa’s father. “The cancer would continue to get worse, and there would eventually come a time when the treatment wouldn’t be able to keep it in check anymore.”
“So it would ultimately kill me,” said Sabrina. “I understand, but that’s not what I’m curious about. I want to know what changes would take place in my body. How would I eventually die?”
“I don’t see the point in speculating about that,” he said. “Every patient is different, and your experience will be unique, whatever it is.”
“You almost make it sound pleasant,” said Sabrina. “You probably think a positive outlook will improve my prognosis, but we’re way beyond that. Stop making excuses and tell me what I want to know.”
Lisa’s father remained silent.
“That’s what I thought,” said Sabrina. “You’re so disturbed by the prospect that you’re not even willing to talk about it. That’s okay. I think you’ve made my point for me. Some things are worse than death.” She glanced at Arthur to confirm he was sufficiently horrified to consent to whatever she had in mind, and took the plunge. “Luckily, there’s another option: a drug that has a better chance of working than anything else. You’ve heard about it before.”
“What is it?” said Arthur.
“It doesn’t have a name,” said Sabrina. “Its inventor only ever spoke about it in the most abstract of terms.”
“Its inventor?” said Arthur.
“Peterson,” said Sabrina.
Arthur seemed to be at a loss for words. Sabrina wondered if she had gone too far. The idea wasn’t disturbing to her anymore, but that was only because she had spent so much time thinking about it. She felt the situation slipping out of her control. She needed sympathy, so she pinched Yvonne, who started crying.
“Peterson was unethical,” said Sabrina. “We can all agree about that. I don’t approve of his methods, but to be perfectly fair, many of the foundational discoveries made by the scientific community were made by unethical people.”
“We’re not talking about the scientific community,” said Arthur. “We’re talking about a murderer who injected people with poison, just to satisfy
