My enthusiasm to feed her this bullshit story has suddenly vanished.
“Yes. What do you want?” Janet says; gently shushing her diseased family like a crying baby.
“Rob’s got something to tell you,” Sandra says. “Don’t you, Rob?” Turning to me.
Thanks for that.
“Yeah. I need to tell you about a medical theory about a possible cure.”
“What are you talking about?” Janet asks, scowling at me, her eyes piercing as if the very mention of another cure is ludicrous.
“It’s just a theory. Nothing more. And I don’t really believe it myself. But there’s always a chance. Always hope.”
“Thought you didn’t think there was a cure? You told me that my family was dead. Why the sudden change of heart? Trying to bullshit me, is it?”
“Look, I’ve already told you that I don’t believe it—it’s just a theor
