“Then why me?” I asked.
She smiled.
“Because you listen,” she said. “Even when what I want sounds silly. You’re the only one who still talks to me like I’m going to need my art supplies.”
She picked at the edge of the blanket.
“Everybody decides everything for me now. What I eat. When I sleep. Which drugs. Which needle. I just want one big thing that I get to choose. Just one.”
“Alicia. It isn’t that simple.”
“Why not?” she said. “Why does having less time make my wish less worth thinking about?”
I didn’t have a good answer for that.
I couldn’t find a way to refuse her without watching her face fall.
I should have kept trying. I know that now. I should have found a way. I should have walked out and found Dr. Patel and asked her what to do.
Instead, I sat there in that chair and pictured it. One happy afternoon. After weeks and weeks of nothing but bad news. One afternoon where she got to wear a veil and laugh and choose something.
“Okay,” I said.
She burst into tears. Happy ones.
That evening, I arranged for another physician to take over her care. Dr. Kim. I signed the transfer paperwork myself. I told myself that made it okay.
But I never asked Dr. Patel, my supervisor, whether I should go ahead with it.
I didn’t ask anybody.
Because I was afraid of what they’d say.
Adrian Hawthorne is a celebrated author and dedicated archivist who finds inspiration in the hidden stories of the past. Educated at Oxford, he now works at the National Archives, where preserving history fuels his evocative writing. Balancing archival precision with creative storytelling, Adrian founded the Hawthorne Institute of Literary Arts to mentor emerging writers and honor the timeless art of narrative.