Page 64 of Toxic Salvation
The taste of bile rises in my throat. I need to find somewhere to be sick, and soon. The guilt is eating me alive from the inside out.
“Annabelle, you shouldn’t feel responsible for this,” says Dr. Nass. “I’m only here because the hospital wants me to verify allpatient information. They’re in full damage control mode and can’t afford any more surprises.”
“What kind of verification?” I manage to choke out.
Sweat beads along my hairline despite the hospital’s aggressive air conditioning. If perspiration were a polygraph test, I’d be failing spectacularly right now.
“Just basic details about your diagnosis, Annabelle. I know we covered this in your intake interview, but please bear with me.”
I move around to the foot of Mom’s bed, trying to situate myself where I can see Dr. Nass’s tablet screen. Mom looks waxen under the fluorescent lights, but then again, she always looks half-dead these days. The cancer has stolen her color along with everything else.
Dr. Nass launches into routine questions—full name, date of birth, medical history, allergies. Standard stuff that wouldn’t trip up anyone telling the truth.
But I’m not telling the truth, am I? I’m living a lie.
I inch closer until I catch a glimpse of the patient chart on the tablet screen. My heart pounds against my ribs when I see the question that’s coming.
“When exactly were you first diagnosed with cancer, Annabelle?”
Game over.
I’m so completely screwed. After all the work Kovan put into covering my tracks, I’m about to be exposed by a simple verification question.
“She always has trouble with dates.” The lie rolls off my tongue. “You were diagnosed two years ago, weren’t you, Mom?”
Mom’s mouth opens, then closes. Her eyes go to mine. I stare back at her, pouring every ounce of desperation I feel into my gaze.
Please. Please don’t let me down now.
“Is that correct, Annabelle?” Dr. Nass presses, her pen poised over the tablet.
I nod encouragingly while Mom shifts uncomfortably in her hospital bed. “Could I… could I have some water, Doctor?”
Dr. Nass dutifully pours water from the bedside pitcher and hands Mom the plastic cup. Mom drinks slowly, buying herself time to think. When she finally sets the cup down, Dr. Nass repeats her question.
“I don’t want to keep you long, Annabelle. I just need this one answer and I’ll be out of your hair.”
Mom looks at me one final time. In her eyes, I see the moment she makes her choice. The moment she decides to sacrifice her principles for her daughter.
“Yes,” she says quietly. “It was about two years ago.”
She lies. For me. My mother, who raised me to value honesty above all else, just committed fraud to protect me.
“Perfect. That’s all I needed to know.” Dr. Nass taps her screen and then tucks it under her arm. “Thank you both for your time.”
I escort Dr. Nass out, then return to sink into the chair beside Mom’s bed. The weight of what just happened is like unbearable gravity dragging me into the lowest circle of hell.
“Mom—”
“Vesper Antoinette Fairfax, why did I just lie to my doctor?”
Being middle-named is never good. I reach for her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Honey…” Her voice shakes. “What did you do?”
“I had to save you,” I whisper. “I had to give you a fighting chance.”
“Oh, Vesper…” Sunlight streams through the window, casting her face in golden light that only emphasizes how translucent her skin has become. She looks like she’s already halfway to wherever Dad is waiting.
