I swallowed the burning lump in my throat, forcing back the tears. Without another word, I wheeled him to his room.
Later, while I was cooking, I heard his hushed voice drifting from the bedroom.
"Just listen to me. Be a good girl. I've prepared the biggest birthday gala for you. Tomorrow, I'll celebrate with you personally."
Valerie's voice crackled through the speaker, feigning concern. "But isn't tomorrow Hazel's birthday too? Won't she be upset if you're with me?"
"Silly girl, you are the only sister I treasure. Your happiness is all that matters. Hazel hasn't celebrated a birthday in five years. She's used to it. One more missed year won't kill her."
"I knew you loved me best!"
I stood frozen in the hallway. Finally, I untied my apron, dropped it on the counter, and walked out.
When Jonathan emerged, I was gone.
On the table sat a bowl of noodles, boiled to mush for easy swallowing, and a single expensive imported pill.
He knew I had the night shift.
As he looked at the food, my pale face flickered through his mind. The cut on my hand. My back at the stove—so thin I looked like I might snap in a strong wind.
Panic seized him. In that moment, Jonathan realized he couldn't recall what I used to look like—the vibrancy, the fire I once held.
A sharp pain struck his chest. An indescribable unease and guilt rose like bile in his throat.
His hands trembling, he grabbed his phone and dialed.
The next day, I took Jonathan to the hospital for his follow-up.
Dr. Jordan Armstrong, his attending physician, practically vibrated with excitement. "Miss James, incredible news. A private research institute abroad has developed an experimental ALS treatment. Clinical trials are showing remarkable results—only two spots left, and I secured one for your brother."
He was selling it hard. I simply nodded. "What are the odds of recovery?"
"Eighty percent."
Jonathan played his part perfectly, tears welling in his eyes. "Hazel, did you hear that? I can get better. I can stay with you forever."
I forced the corners of my mouth up. "That's good. If only one of us can survive, I want it to be you."
Jonathan froze.
Perhaps the gravity in my voice startled him. For a split second, he forgot to slur his speech or feign weakness.