Chapter 3

Two days left until my scheduled euthanasia.

I'd been secretly practicing moving my body. Every little bit of progress gave me another chance to beat the clock.

The door suddenly swung open. It was the middle of the night, and I wasn't expecting any visitors.

"Well, look who's still hanging in there."

I recognized the voice immediately. It was Victor Fletcher, Ben Fletcher's only son and the man responsible for putting me in this condition. This was the first time he'd visited me in three months.

He walked up to my bed, his white coat draped casually over his shoulders.

He leaned down with a mocking smile. "Heard they're finally putting you out of your misery tomorrow. Figured I'd come say goodbye while I still had the chance.

"Really, you should be thanking me. What's the point of spending your life in a vegetative state? Better to die sooner rather than later.

"Maybe you'll have better luck in your next life. Pick a different family, though. You're about to die, and your parents don't even seem that upset."

It was almost laughable that even Victor could see how little my parents cared about me.

He poked my cheek, enjoying every second of it. "Your dad's got some talent, I'll give him that. That little performance at the hearing was brilliant.

"'My daughter's had severe allergies since she was a child.' Ha! I almost believed him myself. Three million for one life. Your family's made a killing."

I stared at the ceiling, pressing my tongue hard against the roof of my mouth. Under the blanket, my right hand slowly curled into a fist, my nails digging into my palm.

Victor lowered his voice. "Let me tell you a little secret. When I gave you that injection, I'd only had my medical license for two days. I bought it, too.

"I had no idea what I was doing, and you just happened to be the unlucky patient. That's just bad luck. Can't blame anyone for that."

He turned and walked toward the window, his back to me. "My dad covers for me, and your dad sells you out. That's how the world works."

He lit a cigarette as he spoke. Smoke filled the room, and I struggled to keep my breathing steady, afraid I would start coughing and give myself away.

"Shame there's no evidence left. Once you're dead, the whole thing's buried for good. My dad keeps his job as hospital director, I keep practicing medicine, and your parents get to enjoy their money. Everybody wins."

I was furious. My right hand began trembling with rage. My pinky twitched first, followed by my ring finger. Then my whole hand started shaking beneath the blanket.

Victor turned, ready to say something else, but stopped when he noticed my hand.

The room fell silent for a few seconds. Then he burst out laughing. "Well, I'll be damned! This is interesting!"

He tossed his cigarette onto the floor and came back to my bedside. "Didn't Dr. Attwood say you were completely unresponsive? Those reflexes look a little unusual to me."

Without warning, he grabbed my right wrist and squeezed so hard I thought he might crush it. "Go on, do it again. Let's see you move!"

I couldn't fight him off. I could only lie there helplessly while he jerked my arm around.

"Now this is interesting. I've gotta show your dad." He pulled out his phone and was about to start recording when a nurse called from the hallway.

"Dr. Fletcher? What are you doing in here? Dr. Attwood wants you in his office."

Victor froze. He stared at me for a few seconds, then broke into a grin.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Even better. I'd rather tell him in person."

He strode out, whistling as he went.

I waited until his footsteps faded before finally letting out the breath I'd been holding. I knew I didn't have much time left.