Time and time again, Sarah had pushed this notebook right in front of him, begging him to just look at it. But he never bothered. He brushed her off every single time.
Now she was dead.
And suddenly, he remembered to read it.
Sarah hovered there, watching Rogers’ fingers shake uncontrollably as he flipped through page after page, hot tears streaming down his face nonstop.
Every entry there was her little journal, tracking the poison spreading through her body.
May 13, 2023. I can’t even hold things steady anymore. I’m so scared. Am I going to end up half-paralyzed? But it’s okay. Rogers promised he’d cure me today. He’s so brilliant, I’ll get better soon, right?
June 28, 2023. All my limbs are getting stiff. Starting today, I can’t get around without a wheelchair. Rogers broke his pr
