‘Economics. Killing people slowly with chemo and radiation makes a lot more money than healing someone.’
‘Jesus. Someone actually said that?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re free of them now?’
‘No. They intend to hold me to the contract and under no circumstances am I to pursue any research or clinical trials with the telomere formula. I think they have me under surveillance.’ He smiled.
‘Nothing in that was funny.’
‘I pushed back. At least the current CEO, this Matt guy, is focused on dollars.’
Sean looked into Frank’s eyes. He stroked the side of his cheek. ‘You’re not going to stop, are you?’
‘I can’t.’
Ben Bradley ran through the front door and shouted out to them. ‘Doctor Frank, Sean, they’re getting ready for the cake. You have to come inside.’
Frank felt Sean pull back. And this is where he leaves me.
Sean’s hand sought out his. ‘Right. How will we do it?’ he asked, as his fingers entwined with Frank’s and clasped tight.
‘Don’t know. But look at them.’
Holding hands and bumping shoulders, they headed back in as a three-tiered cake decorated with cats and lit with seven candles was wheeled from the kitchen to where Jen sat enthroned in front of discarded boxes and wrapping. She barely noticed the cake or the booming rendition of Happy Birthday as she dangled a piece of curly blue ribbon into her kittens’ box.
When the cake stopped in front of her, she looked up. Her gaze went from her mother and father, to Grace, and then to Frank and Sean.
In a clear voice she shouted. ‘I’m seven years old. I’m not dying. And when I grow up, I’m going to be a doctor who saves children like Doctor Frank and Doctor Grace.’ And with that she sucked in a big breath in, the kind that would have been impossible a month ago and blew out the candles.
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