Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Dr. Murphy smiled, leaning forward. “I have one better than that, Autumn.”
“Better?”
“Much better.” His smile grew wider. “You’re being released. We believe you’re cured.”
Her body jolted. Her world jolted. Her mouth fell open. “Cured?” The word came out in a croak, sounding strange and foreign. “That’s…that’s not possible. There’s no cure.” What is happening?
The doctor’s smile slipped just a hair. “Perhaps cured isn’t the right word.” His brows knitted. “Because you’re correct, there’s no cure for the disease associated with ADHM. But we, the other doctors and I, have looked at your test results, and those, in combination with the fact that you have thus far remained tumor-free, indicate that you have responded well to the Mesmivir and other medications. We’d like to conclude that it’s something to do with your DNA, but we don’t have enough empirical evidence yet.”
Autumn stared, dumbfounded.
The doctor pushed his glasses up on his nose. “There are things we’re still learning about this disease, and while your case is rare, we’ve been hypothesizing, and it’s the only thing we can come up with.”
How could this be? She hadn’t been taking her medication. It felt as if cymbals were clanging in her head, and she couldn’t determine if they were warning bells or sounds of far-off celebration. She was too afraid to strain her eyes in search of a victory parade, too fearful it wouldn’t really be there. Yet at the same time, panic and confusion consumed her. Why was this happening so quickly? No process? No preparation? She didn’t understand. “What if you’re wrong?” Her voice was still a mere croak.
Dr. Murphy’s gaze shifted slightly to the side, and a troubled expression crossed his face. “Well, I’ve asked that question too, Autumn…er, expressed my concern…but Dr. Heathrow is very certain and believes we should be too. He’s spent the last sixteen years studying every angle of this disease and believes wholeheartedly you will not begin to show signs with your history thus far and your current numbers.” He paused, that troubled expression returning before he very obviously rearranged his face into a false-looking smile. “However, an off-site doctor will see you regularly. Every couple weeks to begin with and then once a month. You’ll be run through a battery of tests every six months to make sure your numbers remain stable and your scans are clear.”
Doctor visits every couple weeks? And then tests every six months? She’d seen nurses daily since birth, been tested and run through machines, and had fluid drawn at least once a month all her life. She’d couldn’t fathom anything different. She was…cured? She was…leaving? But this was her home. Where was she supposed to go?
Autumn burst into tears, raising her hands and covering her face, panic and fear and joy and disbelief all warring for center stage. In the end, the disbelief won the battle. “Is this a dream?” she wailed.
She heard the creak of Dr. Murphy’s chair as he stood and felt his hand on her shoulder, patting. “No, no. I can assure you it’s no dream. Speaking of vivid dreams though, we’ll begin weaning you off your medication. It’s what causes them, as you know. You’ll be given instructions before you leave for your foster home.”
She shuddered, sniffed, wiped at her face. Weaning off? Just like that? It didn’t make any sense. They didn’t know she’d stopped taking the Mesmivir. As far as they knew, it was the medication that was keeping her well. Wouldn’t they want to determine that before they sent her away to a… “Foster home?” she choked out.
Dr. Murphy stepped back. “Yes. You leave today. I…well…” He thinned his lips momentarily in what appeared to be disapproval, and she sensed somehow that the doctor had conveyed all the same questions she was now asking herself but hadn’t been given answers that satisfied. That tiny red light from the security camera in the other facility flashed in her mind for some reason she couldn’t quite determine at that moment. But why would they send her away because of that rather than confronting or even punishing her? “Dr. Heathrow was quite insistent. He’s made all the arrangements.” Dr. Murphy made that expression again but added a smile, slightly happy but mostly perplexed, the look of a man delivering good news even he hadn’t expected. And she supposed that was accurate. How could anyone have predicted this? “It’s soon, I know. But this disease has taken enough of your life. It’s time to live, Autumn. It’s time to be a normal teenage girl.”
Normal? What did that mean? How could she ever be normal? Her head began whirling, thoughts tumbling. Leave? Today? “Where am I going?”
“A small town about an hour and a half north from New York City in the Shawangunk Mountains.” Dr. Murphy sat down at his desk and pulled a pad forward and began writing on it.