“Serena.” Dr. Henshaw’s light eyes search mine. “You should not forgo palliative care.”
“If the pain gets too bad, I’ll come back to you. But you know I’ve been surveilled my entire life, all because of my biology. Something that happened before I was even born has dictated the last two decades of my life, and . . . I think, if you try to wrap your head around it, you might be able to understand that I’d rather not spend the last months of my life being poked and prodded. I just want to be, for once.”
“Don’t you want to spend time with your sister?”
“Not if this illness turns me into a different person. Misery and I were alone for so long. A year or so ago, when I realized that something was wrong with me, I was terrified that if I disappeared, it would destroy her. And the thing is . .
