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Case took me to the hospital by force. The test results showed that my condition had, in fact, worsened and that I would need chemotherapy to maintain it.

I refused chemotherapy. Carlos scolded me with a pouting face. “Battle because your body is the most important thing you have. Your hair can grow back.”

He had assumed that I was afraid of becoming ugly without hair.

I clung to him weakly and whispered gently. “My condition has deteriorated to a state where I cannot be saved. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life lying in a hospital bed.”

Crazy to me, with watery eyes and asked. “Wait to die?”

Carlos seemed very disturbed. He held out my hand and I held his hand tightly. And he said faintly: “Indeed, it is very tiring to stay alive.”

He pressed his fist into my arm and said, “Nat.”

I wanted to be a lie, to say that I wasn't afraid of dying. However, I didn't want them to feel too disturbed. I also knew very well that he would find Melanie to help us when we were at our wits end.