TREATMENT
Daniel's POV
By the time we left the orphanage, the temperature had dropped, although the dregs of anger were keeping me warm enough. I slammed my car door shut and instantly regretted the grate of metal.
"I don't know how anyone can abandon a kid just because they're different," I said twisting in my seat to look at her.
"Then you really are naive," she was smiling but there was a definite seriousness about her. "A lot of the kids there haven't been dumped, they're fostered. It's just that their families can't afford the doctor's bills or the constant care. Can you imagine trying to keep some of those wounds clean in a rundown basement somewhere?"
"But not all of them are fostered are they?" I reminded her. 'You were telling me about several who'd been left in the hospital; the parent's had just walked away?"
"True - and sometimes I feel that's how most of this world works," she continued. "People crave beauty, whatever that happens to be, hair, face, legs? They don't bother looking beyond the external to what's inside a person. I may not believe in a god, but we all have a conscience, something inside that tries to guide, kicks us when we're being idiots...?"
"Yeah, well my conscience hasn't been doing a very good job so far," I said. I turned on the ignition and pulled out onto the street.
"How come Sebastian is so keen on the orphanage site anyway?" I asked. "The area isn't exactly Manhattan and there have to be a hundred other places equally good to build on?"
"It's slap-bang in the middle of a development complex they want to build. The house is where the underground parking for an office block would be..."
"Couldn't you push for more money? I know the building is quaint but it's pretty run down."
I heard the sigh and wondered if I'd gone too far.
"He won't budge. Sarah's and her husband have already tried that. Any decent sized property in the area is well over six hundred thousand. If they move out of the district they could afford something but then a lot of the kids would have to go back to their parents. They're only fostered, Daniel. The parent's won't give them up for adoption..."
We drove in silence. My head full of the problem and how to solve it.
"By the way," she said, "I'm going to the doctor tomorrow for a biopsy. I wondered if you'd like to come with me?"
It was a bolt from the blue and didn't sound good.
"Biopsy?" I asked.
"It's routine for me. They just take a piece of skin to check for any signs of malignancy... So, will you come?"
"Try and stop me," I said.
"Thanks."
I felt her squeeze my hand, "Hey no problem, but careful you don't put me off my driving!"
"Like I need to try!"
She was laughing at me again, which made me smile. If I was ever going to raise the subject now was as good a time as any I reckoned.
"I've been busy on the laptop doing research about EB... You don't mind do you?"
"Why would I?" she said still sounding relaxed.
"A few of the sites were talking about various sorts of cures..." I caught her muted sigh and hesitated. "Sorry, I suppose you've already looked into all those sorts of things?" It was hard concentrating on the driving when all I wanted to do was watch her expression, see some signs of hope flicker across that beautiful face...
"If you're talking skin grafts, bone marrow transplants then they're not going to happen..."
"Why not, is it about donors?"
"That and money. It costs a fortune just covering the day to day medical costs. I could go to a charity for help but there's a hidden cost with a lot of those... It would mean being a guinea pig. Letting them use me as a test subject for new treatments. No thanks, that is not happening to me in this life-time. It's as bad as being a caged animal in a lab... No way!"
"Sorry," I said again. "I should've realised.
"And stop saying sorry! Honestly, that has to be the twelfth time today. It really cheeses me off!"
My lips were already forming the word and I had to swallow hard.
"I'll try," I said, "I promise..."
"You must get really fed up with all the appointments and medications," I finally said.
"Some."
We were stopped at a red light. I just happened to be looking at her as she flipped back her hair.
The angry red welt was stark against the pale skin of her neck, worse because of the blue smears of bruise already forming. Dried blood coated a jagged cut.
Automatically, I reached across, my fingers skating lightly across the wound. Drips of fresh blood coated my fingertips. I stared at them in a daze.
"Shit," she muttered, "It must've been his ring. I didn't realise he'd caught me." She fumbled in her bag, pulled out a packet and tore it open. "Here, wipe that blood off your hands." She thrust a wipe at me then held a pad of white to her own throat.
"You should have told me you were hurt - Why didn't you say anything?"
The worry had my hands shaking.
"You need to pull away from the lights," she said, all calm as the car behind blasted their horn. "Just pull up to the sidewalk while we sort this?"
How could she be so cool?
"I didn't tell you because I didn't know," she said once I'd parked up somewhere safe. "I feel the pain quite a lot of the time, it wouldn't have registered."
I think it was at that precise moment when it finally sank in. What it was she had to deal with. Every single day of her life - There were no days off for good behaviour. I'd be groaning about a stupid blister on my heel for days... this was way off the scale.
Phoebe might tell herself she was no fighter, the pessimist who just wanted to end it all... but that wasn't what I was seeing. At that moment I had never been more in awe of anyone.
"You need to get that dressed properly," I said trying to keep a semblance of calm. Then a horrible thought struck. "Your mother is going to think I did that to you. What the hell will you say to her...?"
"Don't be such a drama queen, Daniel. You sound like a B rated movie! I'll sort it. Worse things have happened, trust me."
I managed to stop the sorry before it spilt out of my mouth, "S...so will you tell her the truth?"
"No way, she'll only panic and probably try and ban me from going back there. I really don't need the argument."
Neither of us said a word as I drove her home. I kept glancing across, but she was gazing out of her window making it even harder than usual to work out what she was thinking.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow for the appointment," I shouted after her, as she hurried up the steps of the house.
The door slammed shut without her saying a word.
"Damned girls!" I dropped my head onto the steering wheel and groaned. What was it with the female of the species and their moods; I was never going to understand them.
Edited by lindajonesAuthor
A/N Do you think Phoebe is justified not to opt for treatment? Do you like Daniel now? What will happen next?
Your feedback means the world to me.
Thanks for supporting me throughout this book for the Wattys!
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