Page 169 of Ransom

Blair trembles against me but stays silent, just as we discussed. This has to come from me.

"Three rounds of cancer." Maggie's voice rises. "Do you know what that does to a person? The chemo, the radiation, feeling your body’s betraying you, over and over?" She takes a step forward, jabbing a finger at my chest. "I fought. For years, I fought. And now you waltz in here and judge me?"

"You're right. I don't know what you've been through." I keep my voice steady. "But I know what giving up looks like."

"Giving up?" She barks out a harsh laugh. "Is that what you think this is? I'm tired. I'm so damn tired of hospitals, of treatments that make me sicker than the cancer. Of watching my son's face fall every time I can't get out of bed."

Tears stream down her face now. "You think I want to leave him? That I want Blair raising my child? I want to see him graduate. I want to meet his children. I want—" Her voice breaks. "I want to live."

"Then fight." I step away from Blair, closing the distance to Maggie. "Let us help you fight. There are options we haven't explored yet."

"There's nothing else!" Maggie's voice echoes off the garage walls. "I live in the real world, Ransom. Not some fantasy where money fixes everything. There's nothing left for me."

I walk to the bag I stowed on the workbench and fish out the paper file I organized last night. "You're wrong. Dead wrong." I hold up the file. Her eyes lock on it, and her throat bobs.

"What's that supposed to be?"

"Options. Real ones. Treatments you haven't tried. Clinical trials that are showing promise. But you'll never know what might save you if you just quit."

"Don't you dare?—"

"No." I lower my voice, step closer. "Look, I see how exhausted you are. The toll it's taken. But let's be real here—you don't have that much time left. You can barely take care of Max now."

Her face crumples. Blair makes a small sound behind me, but I press on.

"It's going to get worse. Fast. Are you really going to make him watch you waste away? Are you going to force him to remember you like that?"

"You think I don't know what I'm doing to him?" Maggie's voice breaks. "Every time I can't get up to make his breakfast, every time Blair has to tuck him in because I'm too sick?—"

"Then fight. One more time. Not for you—for him."

"I can't." She slumps against the wall. "I just can't."

"You can. And you won't have to do it alone. I've got resources and connections you can't even imagine. I've got the best doctors in the country, hell, the world, standing by. Give me two weeks to show you what's possible."

I watch Maggie slide down the wall, her shoulders slumping. The fight drains from her face, replaced by a hollow exhaustion that breaks my heart.

"Two weeks?" Her voice cracks. "I can't... I can't think about tomorrow. Max needs his lunch packed for school and I?—"

"That's why you have us." I crouch beside her. "Let us help."

Her gaze shifts to Blair. "You're awfully quiet over there."

Blair crosses her arms, jaw tight. I can see how much it hurts her to push Maggie. But I also see the little spark of hope. That sparks is what’s pushing me to have this out.

"Tell him." Maggie's voice hardens. "Tell him about our plan. About how we discussed this, how we agreed?—"

"No." Blair bites out, her words sharp and pained. "I can't keep pretending I'm okay with this insanity."

"Blair—"

"Your plan fucking sucks! You want us to watch you die. You want to lay in that house and waste away…" Blair's voice breaks. "And just stop fighting."

"It's my choice," Maggie snaps. "My dignity?—"

"Fuck your dignity!" Blair's shout echoes off the garage walls. "What about Max? What about watching him grow up? What about fighting until there's nothing left to fight with?"

"You have no right?—"