When Love Becomes a Cage (Melanie)

The following day, I went to the hospital to see Warren. He seemed irked upon learning that Eliana had spilled the beans about the experimental drug. "Can't tell a cold capsule from an anti-inflammatory, and she's sending you over?" he scoffed.

"I mentioned it just once, and she remembered. She's got a good memory and cares about me," I defended.

Warren quickly skimmed through my medical report and took off his glasses more dramatically than usual.

"Melanie, the radiation you were exposed to last time has me worried," he confessed, his tone grave.

That was the first time I'd seen him without his glasses, and he seemed more authoritative, his balding head notwithstanding.

Sitting across from him, I felt a twinge of anxiety. "Is it coming back?"

"It's uncertain, but the odds aren't great." He didn't sugarcoat his words, especially when indicating that several markers in my reports were off, chilling me to the bone.

I had hoped my body could withstand a little more, at least long enough to uncover the truth behind my father's death. But then, even my survival seemed up in the air.

"You are too weak. Chemotherapy involves radiation, too, and the kind from those minerals has done you no favors," Warren explained. "You're kind of like a glitchy app right now-still going but might crash any minute. I think you should be in the hospital so we can keep an eye on things constantly. If anything goes wrong, we can handle it right away. With me on board, you're in safe hands."

Warren rarely spoke with such gravity. I knew my situation was dire. I did some digging myself. Radiation from those stones had led to leukemia and cancer in many miners. My exposure might've been brief, but as someone prone to relapses, my odds were worse.

I remained silent, and Warren didn't press me.

That was a big deal. I had to talk with someone, but I had no one.

After contemplating my situation, I shook my head. "I can't be hospitalized."

That was my line in the sand. Hospitalization would mean Clyde finding out everything. And with my condition public knowledge, any investigation I hoped to pursue would be hampered.

Warren pondered and then pulled out a document. "This is an experimental drug from Aurora Labs I've been working on. It might shield you from some radiation effects in clinical trials. But, look here, there are side effects."

The list of unfamiliar medical terms made me frown.

He elaborated, "Aside from vomiting, fainting, and nosebleeds, it might affect your central nervous system, but we're unclear on the specifics." "Could it trigger a third recurrence?" I asked carefully.

Warren nodded. "Doubt it. It's used to offset radiation effects."

Upon hearing that, I breathed a sigh of relief. If Warren deemed the risk minimal, it was so.

"Fine, I want to give it a shot." With a

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chance to avoid a recurrence, I was all in. After all, chemotherapy came

withats risks. Given my condime

had no choice.

I

After signing the agreement and leaving his office, I started to figure out how to sneak out for bi-weekly check-ups.

Lifting my gaze, I saw Lisa slumped in Clyde's arms, clearly too much for him.

Lisa caught my eye first and clung tighter to Clyde.

"Clyde, can't you carry me? I've seen it in movies," she pleaded.

Clyde's face turned red, his voice shaky, "Sorry, I'm not much into working out... I can't lift..."

"It's not that you're heavy. I'm just, um, weak," Clyde stammered awkwardly.