* * *
“Miss Hall?”
My eyes flutter open to meet the sharp gaze of an older man with grey eyes. “Yes?”
He smiles softly. “My name is Doctor Bell. I’m a specialist in auto-immune disorders and was just assigned to your case.” Reaching behind him, he pulls a stool over and plops down on top of it. “Dr. Alexander sent over all the files they had for you yesterday, and I spent all evening going through them.”
I see what he’s going to say before he even has the chance to say it. Never one to beat around the bush, I clear my throat and ask the only question I’m literally dying to know the answer to. “How much time do I have?”
His expression softens, and he purses his lips. “A couple weeks if you’re lucky. Dr. Alexander was surprised you were still alive as it was, and based on what I’m seeing, I am inclined to agree. Can you tell me what you’ve been doing to slow things down the past few months?”
A tear slips down my cheek as Sullivan appears in the corner of the room. The doctor doesn’t notice him, though, so I don’t bring attention to him. “Must have been the change of scenery,” I reply honestly. Leaving out that the change was actually in worlds versus countries seems logical at this point. Can’t have them thinking I’m going crazy on top of it. “What is going to happen?”
He leans forward and wrests a wrinkled hand on the side of the bed. “Well, your organs are going to start shutting down,” he replies. “Kidney function is already inhibited, and as your body temperature remains high, it’s only going to get worse. You will begin to suffer memory loss due to the damage your brain will suffer, and eventually, you will slip into a coma.”
My throat tightens, and more tears break free.
“I am so sorry, Ember. Please understand if there was anything we could do—”
“I’ve heard it all before, doctor, and I appreciate your honesty.”
His smile is sincere. “Of course. We need to know if you want to be resuscitated. We can have a document drawn up and brought to you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to be kept alive by any machines,” I tell him. “I just want to die.”
He nods in understanding.
“And I want to leave.”
At this, he actually looks surprised. “If you stay here, we can keep you comfortable.”
“No offense, but I don’t want to die in a hospital.”
“Ember. Miss Hall—”
“Please. Isn’t that my right?” I meet Sullivan’s gaze. “I have a friends here in the city. I will stay with them."
His expression morphs once more, though it’s not pity but rather concern. “If that is what you wish, we cannot hold you here. Nor would we want to, but I have to warn you. This is not going to be an easy death. You will be in pain.”
“I understand that. But pain is not something I am unfamiliar with.”