Chapter 15: Not One Cell

I did not sleep, and at eight the next morning I was standing outside the oncologist's office with Darby's envelope in my bag.

I did not open it.

I had decided, somewhere around four a.m., that I would not read Emmeline's texts until I had said the one thing that mattered.

Carl waited at the end of the hall.

I had asked him to, and he had not argued.

The oncologist opened her door herself.

She was a small woman in her fifties with reading glasses pushed up into gray hair, and she had been Emmeline's doctor for three years.

Behind her desk stood a nurse and a social worker, both with folders held to their chests.

"Ms. Garrard," she said. "I was going to call you."

"I'm sure."

"Mr. Whitfield's lawyer phoned my office at seven. He says you've agreed to be evaluated as a donor."

"I haven't."

She took her glasses off.

"I thought that might be the case."

"Then I'd like to say it in front of everyone who works for her," I said. "So nobody has to wonder."

The oncologist nodded to the other two, and they stayed.

I did not sit down.

"I won't donate," I said. "Not now and not after any court order or any apology."

"I understand."

"Not one cell. Not a single cheek swab."

"You're entitled to that. No one can compel it."

"Nigel's proxy didn't ask me anything," I said. "It decided."

Nobody in the room moved.

"I know she is dying. I know what that costs everyone who loves her. I'm not pretending it's nothing."

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