“I’ll fight the appeal,” Laura said, her voice climbing. “I’ll call the board, I’ll go to the local news—”

“The appeals process takes months,” Dr. Lawson said gently. “Emily doesn’t have months. The blast cells are multiplying. She needs the first infusion by next week.”

I pulled my hand from Laura’s. I felt hollow. “I’m not doing it,” I said, eerily calm.

“Emily, don’t you dare—”

“Mom, look at me!” I yelled, tears spilling. “You don’t have that kind of money. We can’t do this. I am not going to let you destroy your life for me. I’ve had three wonderful years with you. That’s enough.”

Laura grabbed my face with both hands, her eyes blazing with a ferocious kind of love. “You listen to me, Emily Davidson. You are my daughter. You are my whole world. I would burn this entire city to the ground to keep you breathing. Do you understand me? We are doing this.”