“What did you say?” Joey knew he’d heard perfectly well the first time, yet he refused to believe his ears.

“My days are numbered, Joey. My cancer and I have been at war for years…and now that war is coming to an end.” Sheri didn’t blink or turn her head to either side. Her voice remained calm, her face unreservedly sober.

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

Joey felt the blood drain from his face like water from a faucet. He didn’t want to ask, but the question found its way out of his mouth anyhow. “Does…does this have anything to do with that tumor of yours? The one that cost you your leg?”

“Yes.”

“But…but I thought they already got rid of it. I thought it was over after the…amputation.”

“That’s what we thought, too. But then we learned that, even before they cut it out, it had already metastasized.”

“What’s that in English?”

“It means other tumors have spread. And some of those tumors have settled in, as they put it, ‘inoperable places.’ Meaning they can’t just get rid of them. Not without getting rid of me first.”

Despite the warmth of the little room, Joey felt as cold as if someone had locked him in a freezer. For a full minute, he literally couldn’t move, and he felt sicker to his stomach than he’d ever had, even with his worst chemo session.

Now he did wish he hadn’t eaten quite so many cookies after all.

It was another minute before he found his tongue again. Even then, his words were low and halting. “Aren’t you afraid?”

Tracing an obscure design on the table with her fingertip, Sheri said quietly, “I can’t say I’m entirely surprised. After all, this isn’t the first time I’ve received the death sentence.”

Joey remembered her telling him how she hadn’t expected—or been expected—to live to sixteen. “But they could be wrong this time, too,” he protested. “You know how people are misdiagnosed all the time. Just because the doctors say something will happen doesn’t always mean it will.”

The girl shook her head. “Much as I hate to burst your bubble, Joey, I have to admit I believe them. I’ve been through just about every test under the sun, and what’s awaiting me is pretty much guaranteed.”

“But you can still beat the odds, like you did last time. You can’t abandon hope now, Sheri.” Joey couldn’t help the crack in his voice at that last part.

Sheri sighed and lifted her hand to her face, lightly pinching the bridge of her nose. At length, she murmured, “I don’t mean to sound like I’m abandoning hope. But I’m not trying to kid myself, either.” When she withdrew her hand and faced Joey directly again, she went on, “For some time, I had this feeling there was something wrong with me besides my leg. I couldn’t be sure, but when they told me I wasn’t long for this world…well, it felt more like a simple confirmation than anything else. That’s also why I didn’t flip out so much as I might have otherwise.”

Very slowly, in little more than a whisper, Joey asked, “So…what now? When do you go back to the hospital?”

“Never.”

“Never?” He blinked in new surprise.

“When I told you I was going home to stay, I meant it. No more hospitals for me from now on.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged her thin shoulders and turned her palms upward. “What would be the point? The doctors have already made it clear there’s nothing else they can do. Not in my case.”

“But they can help you not hurt. They can help you live at least a little longer—”

She cut him off gently but bluntly. “And what difference would that make?”

Unable to think of a good enough answer, Joey only sighed and looked away.

Sheri continued, “Sure, the hospital’s still a legitimate option. But I wouldn’t want to be there anyway, not if I have any say-so. I don’t want to die surrounded by a bunch of cold machines and the stink of medicine. And I certainly don’t want my family taking shifts with me night and day.” She shook her head again and lowered her voice further. “No…that’s not for me.”

Joey lifted his head a bit. “Then what will you do, Sheri?”

“Do you know what hospice is?”

“I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know much about it.”

“To boil it down, it’s an authorized program that makes it possible for you to die in the comfort of your home.”

“What?” If Joey was stunned before, he was now truly knocked for a loop. 

“These people not only help you and your loved ones come to terms with what’s happening, but they provide special care just for you, in your own house, so you never have to set foot in the hospital.”

Joey grimaced. “That doesn’t sound at all appealing to me.”

“Maybe not,” Sheri conceded, “but it does to me. In this way, I can at least be in my own bed, in a familiar environment, and I won’t be alone.”

“And you won’t take any more treatment?”

“Nothing more than what I need to not hurt.” A wry smile played on the girl’s lips. “Pain and I have never been strangers to each other, but we’ve never been the best of friends, either.”

It cost almost every fiber of Joey’s being to give utterance to his next question, the one he was wondering about and dreading the most. “How long did they say you have?”

“Maybe three months. Four if I’m lucky.”

Lucky. The word rebounded through Joey’s brain like a cruel playground mantra. He felt his heart sink to the very soles of his sneakers.

Every wall in the house seemed to close in on him. He felt like a swimmer who had been underwater for too long and the surface was too far away. He teeter-tottered between the desperate urges to cry, to scream, to hit something, to throw up. Somehow, he managed to keep his composure as he stood up and bid Sheri a distracted goodbye and told her to thank her mother for the cookies.

She made no effort to stop him. 

His legs carried him out of the dining room, down the main hall, through the front door, and down the street on virtual autopilot. He had almost reached the second block by the time he heard other feet pounding the pavement and Lance’s voice hollering after him. He stopped and waited for Lance to catch up, but he never looked at Lance or spoke to him, not until Lance spoke first.

“Joey—what just happened, man? Why did you leave without telling me?” Looking more closely at Joey’s face, Lance furrowed his brow and took a tentative step closer. “Hey, you all right? What’s wrong?”

With his gaze fixed to the sidewalk, Joey mumbled, “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Just nothing? You look terrible, dude. Something’s got to be up. Did you have a run-in with Sheri, or what?”

“N-no. No, of course not. Sheri has nothing to do with this.” Terrified that he would break down on the spot, Joey resumed his walk and Lance was hard-pressed to stay close. When Lance appealed to him again, he only said, “Let’s go home, Lance. Please, I—I just want to get home.”