Chapter 23: Mine

The consent form was three pages long, and I read every word.

I had signed three years of breakfast papers without looking, and I was never going to do it again.

The surgeon sat across from me in the pre-op room with the form between us.

"You can stop at any point before the anesthesia," she said. "Nobody in this building will think less of you."

"I know," I said.

I picked up the pen.

I wrote *Annabel Wyndham* on the line at the bottom of the first page, and again on the second and third.

My hand did not shake.

"That's the name you want on the record?" the surgeon asked.

"It's the only one that's mine," I said.

Jonas stood at the door with his back to the frame.

He had not slept in two days.

When they came for me with the gurney, he stepped forward and stopped.

"May I?" he asked.

"You may," I said.

He bent and put his mouth against my forehead and stayed there.

His hand closed over mine on the rail, and it was warm, and it trembled once.

"I'll be at the door," he said into my hair. "I'll be here the whole time."

"Don't pace," I said.

"I won't."

"You will."

"I will," he said, and the corner of his mouth moved.

They rolled me down the hall.

Poppy was in the next bay with a cap on her head and a nurse adjusting her line.

She turned her head on the pillow.

"See you on the other side, stubborn sister," she called.

"Five letters," I called back, and she laughed.

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