Chapter Thirty Three

"Lacey, you need to eat something."

Despite her mother's brisk admonishment, Lacey continued to moodily push her cold fried potatoes around on her plate before finally setting aside her plastic fork. "I'm not hungry."

"Sweetie, you already skipped breakfast today. Jo told me that you haven't eaten anything since before you made it to the cabin," Judy cajoled gently, "Can't you take a few bites?"

She shook her head in refusal and pushed the platter away completely before sliding down beneath the mobile hospital tray back into her hospital bed. "I'm done," she said, "Tell the nurse I don't want anything else."

"Lacey, for God's sake," her mother pleaded, "Just one bite...please!"

In response to Judy's desperate pleas, Lacey merely shifted to face the wall and pulled the covers up over her head. "I'm tired, Mom," she announced dully, "I'm going to sleep now."

Judy's intention to press her further was frustrated when Sam placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. He gave a sharp shake of his head when she glared at him. "Let her be, Judy."

She shrugged off his hand. "What?" she spat, "Suddenly you're the arbiter of what's best for my child?"

"She's my daughter too," he bit out fiercely, "Let's not fight in front of her. It's not helping anything."

"She needs to eat, Sam," she hissed, "We are watching her waste away in this bed!"

"It's only been one day. Give her time."

Earlier that morning, the Mastersons had stopped by to check in with the Porter family as well as say their goodbyes. Rico Velazquez had been medically cleared with instructions to follow up with his pediatrician and was heading home with his own family that afternoon. He continued to suffer from a persistent headache but was otherwise healthy.

With his release from the hospital, the Mastersons needed to return to Green Grove as well with the understanding that Danny's condition would not be fixed so easily. Jo had been quite vocal about her reluctance to leave Lacey and Danny behind and, for a while, it looked as if Tess and Kyle would have to force her. Eventually, however, she came to realize with the help of her parents that there was little she could do for either of them other than worry herself to the point of illness. It was up to Lacey and Danny now.

While the girls said their farewells to one another, the adults made firm promises to keep each other appraised of any pertinent changes. Judy hated to see Jo go, not only because she knew how much her friendship meant to Lacey but also because Jo Masterson seemed to be the only one who could coax Lacey out of her withdrawn moods. With the Mastersons' departure an unavoidable gloom settled on the Porter family. They took with them Lacey's last remaining vestiges of motivation. There was little else Sam and Judy could do other than wait for further news on Danny's condition and hope fervently that Lacey would start to improve.

On a positive note, Danny had, to the surprise of his doctors and nurses, survived the night. In spite of that feat, his prognosis remained as grim as ever. The doctors attributed his fortitude mainly to his youth but seemed to be in agreement that he was on a slow decline. Judy had hoped that news that he wasn't dead yet would be enough to encourage Lacey's continued progress. She was already talking again. The only thing that remained was waiting for her to give some indication that she wanted help.

That wasn't to be the case, however. Even though she had seemingly recovered from her brief departure from sanity Lacey remained as withdrawn as ever. She interacted very little with her surroundings, thoroughly uninterested in everything. It was unclear to Judy whether her behavior was due to the fact Danny remained in critical condition or because she had simply lost her will to go on in the aftermath of everything that had transpired in the past week.

Judy couldn't help but be concerned by Lacey's lack of initiative. With her latest refusal to eat or drink anything, her chances for receiving an outpatient referral would likely become a dim prospect. While she was now responding to questions appropriately and was no longer combative with her parents and staff, her actions and reactions were devoid of any real emotion. She was like an automaton, doing and saying all the right things but with perfunctory efficiency. Judy was extremely aware and, most regrettably so was the hospital staff, that Lacey was going through the motions. It mattered little that she was speaking again. Lacey was as emotionally broken as ever.

The one thing Lacey had shown a modicum of passion about, the thing she had requested again and again, was to see Danny. She asked about him frequently. She wanted to be at his side. She wanted to hold his hand. And she voiced a request to do so almost every hour on the hour.

That, of course, was better than nothing but, Judy was leery about granting her permission. Danny was a wreck. Judy imagined that seeing him could only worsen Lacey's depression. Sam, as usual, disagreed with her, and asserted that Lacey might actually benefit from seeing Danny. Judy had been quick to dismiss his suggestion. From her perspective, it was easy for him to suggest such a thing when he hadn't yet been over to the surgical ICU to see Danny with his own eyes. He was too much of a coward to face Karen Desai after the way he had disparaged her son. The same was not true for Judy. She had been compelled to offer her condolences to Karen and the gravity of Danny's condition had left her shaken. It was a surety that Lacey would be devastated.

It was during one of the altogether few instances when she had allowed herself to be away from Lacey's bedside that Judy ventured over to the surgical ICU. Tess had warned that Karen was in a bad way and that had been no exaggeration. She looked as if she had aged ten years in just ten hours. Her pretty, Barbie doll-like features had been pale and haggard and filled with defeat and despair. It had broken Judy's heart just looking at her, let alone listening to the grief in her voice as they spoke about Danny's prognosis. However, none of the warnings she had received from Tess or Jo could have prepared Judy for the reality of Danny lying in his hospital bed.

He was almost unrecognizable behind all the wires and tubes entering and exiting his body, nothing like the cocky, defiant sixteen year old boy was expecting. He looked grey and frail and broken in his hospital bed. He had a tube down his throat, pillows propped beneath his four extremities and a steady drip of various medications feeding through his veins. There had been a plethora of machines beeping and whooshing and alarming for the duration of her short visit. His nurses had been in and out of his room in a constant processional to adjust drip doses, assess his cardiac rhythm and validate his vital signs.

Judy couldn't leave the ICU fast enough. She hadn't needed a medical doctor to confirm for her that Danny was critically ill. She could plainly see that with her own eyes, just as she could plainly discern that it was unlikely he would last much longer in his current condition. It was the last thing Lacey needed to see. She didn't need that to be her last memory of him, especially now when she was in such an emotionally fragile state. Judy was certain the reality would push her over the precarious edge on which she was already teetering.

Unfortunately, the more she refused Lacey's request, the more despondent her daughter seemed to become. She didn't rail at Judy defiantly as she would have in the past but instead seemed to shrink more and more inside of herself, becoming less and less like the Lacey she'd once been. As crazy as Lacey's sassiness often drove her, Judy would have welcomed it. She half hoped that Lacey would fight her, if for no other reason than to prove there was still some fight in her.

She sat there lamenting that fact when the social worker, a woman who had introduced herself to them earlier that morning as Clem Watkins, knocked softly on the door. Judy and Sam rose dutifully when she gestured for them to join her outside of Lacey's treatment room. "How did she do with lunch?" Ms. Watkins asked without preface, "Did she manage to eat something?"

"I think she's still a little sleepy from the medicine they gave her last night," Judy replied with a falsely casual air, "She's too tired to eat right now."

Ms. Watkins expelled a disappointed sigh. "I'm not sure how comfortable I feel sending Lacey home with outpatient referrals at this point," she said, "If she's refusing to eat and drink, that's a problem."

"She's not refusing," Judy denied hotly, "She's fatigued! She's been through an emotional ordeal and she's drained! We'll try again at dinner."

The social worker looked to Sam. "Mr. Porter, I'd like to hear your thoughts on this."

Judy spoke up before he could answer. "What he thinks doesn't matter! He doesn't factor into this," she interrupted coldly, "I am Lacey's full time parent."

"And a lot of good that's done her," Sam scoffed bitterly.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means, Judy?" Sam retorted, "Our daughter had a nervous breakdown under your watch! I wouldn't necessarily call that stellar parenting!"

"You son of a bitch! At least I've actually been a parent to her! Can you say the same?"

The social worker stepped between them before the argument could degenerate into further insults. "Neither of you are helping Lacey by fighting," she advised them, "We need to be focused on finding a solution that benefits her in the best possible way."

Sam slowly relaxed his defensive stance, his belligerent glower falling away from Judy at last. "Lacey wants to see her boyfriend," he informed Ms. Watkins flatly, "She's been asking to see him since she woke up this morning."

"And that's a terrible idea, isn't it?" Judy inserted quickly, "Lacey can't handle seeing Danny in the state she's in right now. She could very well have a setback!"

"Normally, I would agree with you, Mrs. Porter," the social worker said, "But this is a very special circumstance. My understanding is that the young man's condition is very grave. If he were to die without Lacey being given an opportunity to tell him goodbye that could impede her recovery. It might even hinder her progress altogether."

It took several more hours to convince Judy to agree but, eventually, the constant pressure from Ms. Watkins and Sam as well as Lacey's unrelenting requests finally wore her down. She procured a wheelchair for Lacey and, after it was arranged for the safety sitter to travel with them, she reluctantly wheeled Lacey down to the surgical ICU. "Now I want you to be prepared," she whispered to Lacey in warning along the way, "He doesn't really look like himself."

"I know," Lacey replied in a flat tone, "Jo told me it was bad."

The instant they entered the surgical waiting room and Karen Desai caught sight of Lacey she dissolved into tears. She clutched the traumatized girl in a tearful embrace, too distraught to realize that Lacey barely returned her hug or had much reaction at all. Karen rocked back on her heels and framed Lacey's face in her hands. "Oh sweetheart," she wept, "are you sure you want to do this?"

Lacey jerked her head in a small nod. "I want to see him," she insisted softly, "Will you take me in to him please?"

"They're restricting visitors so you'll be in there by yourself," Karen explained.

"That's fine. I need time alone with him anyway."

They wanted to wheel her to his room and have the sitter accompany her but Lacey steadfastly refused both. She wanted to get there under her own steam and she wanted privacy when she did. Though it was against hospital policy, the sitter conceded to her insistence but gave her a timetable for her visit. Lacey accepted her conditions with a demure nod and then dutifully followed the instructions Karen gave her for finding Danny's room.

She faltered a step just outside his treatment door, catching sight of him through the large pane of glass that served as the entrance. Jo had not been exaggerating when she said he was unrecognizable. He appeared slightly bloated, his eyes, face and arms swollen with retained fluid. His breathing was steady but mechanical, aided by the ventilator that filtered air into his lungs through the tube hanging at the corner of his mouth. It was difficult to see him that way but Lacey knew from Jo's warnings that what she could see was only a small portion of the actual reality.

Lacey sucked in a fortifying breath and stepped through the door on trembling legs, slowly approaching his bedside. Once inside, she was bombarded with the incessant beeping and whooshing of the machinery that surrounded him. She was overwhelmed by the sight of the chest tube collection system that drained blood and fluid from his pleural cavity, the bag connected to the urinary catheter which drained his urine and green colored bile that was suctioned from his gut via the thin, flexible tube that had been fed down his throat into his stomach. It was a lot to take in and that was completely discounting his cardiac monitor and the multiple IV lines that meandered out from his body. There was so much that Lacey was almost afraid to touch him.

For several, breathless seconds her hand hovered in mid-air above his before she finally grasped hold of his fingers and squeezed them tight. "I'm here," she whispered, "I'm sorry it took me so long. Judy and Sam were being stubborn." Lacey paused a moment, as if she expected him to make response to that. When he didn't, she said, "I think they're going to put me in the nut house and I would panic about that but...I don't feel too much of anything right now.

"I'm not sad or scared or even angry. I'm just numb," she continued in a monotone whisper, "I hope you're numb too. I hope you're not in pain. I hope you're at peace." She leaned down to press a gentle kiss near his ear. "I love you. It's okay if you have to go, Danny," she told him, "I understand. You shouldn't worry about me. I'll be there with you soon."

Later, when they had returned to Lacey's treatment room, Judy was heartened when Lacey declared that she was hungry after all. With the return of her appetite, it was her parents hope as well as that of hospital staff that Lacey might be on an upward swing. After the social worker provided Judy with referrals for outpatient therapy in their area, Lacey was discharged from the hospital. Lacey was understandably distraught at the idea of leaving Danny behind but did not put up an argument when her parents insisted that she come home with them. Lacey sat on the plane and stared out the window as they left Pennsylvania behind, thinking that it didn't matter too much that she wasn't there physically with Danny. The parts of her that really mattered had been left behind with him.

Upon her return to Green Grove, Lacey proved to be a model daughter. She attended therapy when her parents said so. She ate when her parents said so. She slept when they said so. Lacey didn't even protest at her father's sudden reintroduction back into her life, didn't complain at all when Sam Porter saw fit to weigh in on decisions that personally affected her. None of it mattered anyway. She was merely existed from day to day, waiting to Karen Desai's daily reports on Danny's steady deterioration and biding her time until the moment came for him to take his final breath.

Not even her subsequent return to school seemed like much of an ordeal. She was aware of the whispered gossip that took place behind her back but it didn't much faze her. Lacey stuck close to Jo and Rico during that time, paying very little attention to her peers or the rumors that circulated about them. But while Lacey seemed mostly unconcerned with the attention she was receiving, Jo and Rico were both hyperaware of the scrutiny. They sat together during lunch period, acutely aware of the furtive looks being darted at them from all directions.

Rico took a bite of his sandwich, trying not to look as self-conscious as he felt. "Now I know how poor Gilbert feels," he mumbled around a mouthful.

Lacey squinted at him in question. "Gilbert? Who's Gilbert?"

"It's his beta fish," Jo clarified, "He loves that thing to an unhealthy degree. But I agree...this does feel a lot like being in a fishbowl."

"Just ignore them," Lacey advised with a shrug, "They'll find a new topic of conversation by next week. Trust me." She watched Rico and Jo mount a rather unsuccessful effort to feign nonchalance with their classmates' unabashed staring before she decided to change the subject entirely. "Rico, how's your head?"

"I still have a little bit of a headache," he said, "But my doctor said the bleeding is mostly resolved. I'm more concerned about this big ass bruise on the side of my face." He fingered the tender, purple and black bruise that covered a good portion of the lateral side of his face. "It just invites questions. Everyone keeps asking me if the rumors are true."

"What are they asking?" Lacey asked in a half interested tone.

"They want to know if Vikram Desai really was alive and if he actually tried to kill us."

Jo released a self-deprecating grunt. "Isn't this stuff supposed to be confidential?" she wondered aloud, "How did it become common knowledge for everyone?"

"My parents said that we've been a running news story since we left," Rico said, "Reporters have been following this since the beginning. I suppose it was inevitable that something would leak." He was stalled by saying anything further by Sarita Henson's unexpected approach. "Uh oh...we have trouble," he coughed slyly into his hand, "Incoming!"

Lacey had just a split second to prepare mentally before Sarita reached them. She tipped back her head to regard the other girl with a wary, waiting stare. "What do you want, Sarita?" she demanded wearily.

"To say 'hi,'" Sarita replied somewhat awkwardly, "And to see how you were holding up with everything." Lacey said nothing to that but continued to survey her with inscrutable eyes. Sarita tried again. "I heard about Danny. I'm sorry, Lacey."

"And what did you hear?"

"That he was shot," Sarita said, "That he really didn't kill his aunt after all. That he didn't kill Regina either."

"Which is what I've been saying for weeks," Lacey pointed out, "It suddenly matters to you now?"

"Can you really blame me for thinking the worst of him, Lacey? He let everyone believe he was a killer. I didn't know him like you did!"

"And you never will," Lacey informed her harshly, "He's going to die, Sarita, so this entire conversation is pretty pointless."

Jo recoiled at her blunt phrasing. "Lacey! What are you doing?"

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" she insisted quietly, "He is. Danny is going to die. His father shot him at close range like he was nothing. Everyone is already gossiping about what happened anyway. Now they have confirmation. Danny Desai was shot by his not so dead father and now he's going to die." She fixed Sarita with an impassive stare. "Are you happy? Did you get what you came for, Sarita?" Intensely aware of the horrified looks she was receiving from both Jo and Rico, Lacey pushed back her chair and exited the cafeteria without a backwards glance.

She avoided Jo and Rico for the remainder of the school, ducking out the back doors soon after the final bell rang. As had become her routine for the past week since she'd returned home, Lacey attended her daily session with her personal therapist. She spent close to an hour humoring the woman with a discussion on her feelings concerning her parents' divorce and her father's sudden presence in her life again. By the time it was over and she had returned home, Lacey was physically and mentally exhausted. After obligatory greetings to her parents and sister, she trudged up the stairs to her bedroom and locked the door.

On her computer desk sat the newly purchased bottles of antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications that she had been prescribed upon her discharge from the hospital. She stared at the bottles, wondering vaguely just how many pills she would have to take before she stopped breathing. She was still contemplating the answer to that question when Jo abruptly ducked through her bedroom window. Lacey jumped, startled by her unannounced arrival.

"I have a front door, you know," she informed Jo irritably, "You should try using it."

"I couldn't take the chance your mom would turn me away," Jo replied.

Lacey sat down on her bed with a heavy sigh. "She's just being overprotective because of everything that's happened. She's worried about me."

"I'm worried about you too," Jo said, "You're not yourself, Lacey."

The corner of her mouth quirked in a mirthless smile. "Oh yeah? Then who am I, Jo?"

Knowing better than to get drawn into a circular argument with her, Jo addressed the situation which had brought her to Lacey's window in the first place. "I recognize the signs, you know?" she prompted her softly, "You don't think I know what you're doing, Lacey?"

She tipped back her head with a tired sigh. "What am I doing?"

"Yesterday you gave me the charm bracelet that Danny made for you when we were in fifth grade and the day before that you went on and on about what a great couple Rico and I were and how you hoped we'd be together for a long time."

Lacey shrugged. "So what? You guys are beautiful together. I'm glad to see you happy. You deserve that. And as for the bracelet, well...you always loved it. I remember how jealous you were because Danny didn't make you one too."

"That's because you were special to him."

"So are you...just in a different way. He'd want you to have it."

"You love that bracelet too, Lacey. I know what it means to you. It was the last thing Danny gave you before he went away."

"I wanted you to have it," Lacey told her softly, "You're my best friend. I wanted you to have something that was important to me...something that was important to him."

"Why?"

"Because I love you," Lacey replied as if that should be answer enough, "Why not?"

Jo swallowed painfully, her eyes brimming with tears when she asked, "Are you thinking about it?"

"Thinking about what?"

"You know what!" Jo cried, "Are you?" Lacey nibbled her lip and averted her eyes, her drawn features flickering with guilt. For Jo that was confirmation enough. She emitted a distressed moan and had to fairly force herself to ask the next question. "Do you have a plan?"

An agonizing beat of silence followed the question before Lacey finally replied, "Yes, I have a plan. I'm waiting for Danny though. I won't do anything without him."

Jo doubled over, feeling an almost physical pain with Lacey's admission. "Oh my god..."

"I've thought about what I need to do," Lacey went on as if she were planning something as mundane as a trip to the grocery store, "I'll be responsible about it. I won't let Clara be the one to find me. I couldn't scar her that way. My mom will handle it better."

It was debilitating for Jo to learn just how meticulously she had planned the details. Her own spiral had been born out of impulse, a desperate cry for help. But Lacey was calm and resolved. She had plotted out her actions so scrupulously that she even knew the person who would ultimately discover her body. Jo might have been impressed by her attention to detail if it all weren't so morbid and depressing. She shouldn't have been surprised, however. Lacey had rarely done anything in her life without a plan.

"Do you actually hear yourself, Lacey?" she cried softly, "Don't you get that you'll scar Clara regardless? She will never get over it! Never! Do you get that?"

"I'm not going to be any good to her!" Lacey flared back, "I can't be the sister she needs! Not anymore!"

"I could tell your mom what you're planning," Jo threatened in a dire tone, "There's nothing to stop me from going downstairs this minute and telling her everything you just told me!"

"It doesn't matter if you do or not," Lacey replied in an obstinate tone, "I'll just swallow an entire bottle of pills or throw myself out the window or off of a building or I'll walk out into the middle of traffic! I'm going to do it! I'll find a way, Jo!"

Jo dropped down beside her with a crushed sigh. "Lacey," she lamented brokenly, "why didn't you talk to me? Why didn't you tell me you were feeling this way? I would have helped you."

"Talking won't change anything. Every time I close my eyes, I'm back at that day and I see Danny getting shot over and over again and there's nothing I can do to prevent it. I can't make it stop. It's on a loop in my head. I just want it to stop."

"This is your grief and trauma talking," Jo told her fiercely, "You have to work with your therapist. You have to give the medicine time to take effect."

"Is the medicine going to help me deal after Danny is gone? Is it going to help me cope with that?" Lacey challenged, "I don't think so."

"Suicide isn't the answer."

"You didn't seem to think so when you tried it."

Jo winced at the reminder. "And I was wrong!" she cried, "I've never been more wrong about anything in my entire life! When I did what I did it was because I thought things would never get better. I couldn't see beyond the pain. I thought I would always feel empty and alone and I wanted to stop hurting all of the time. But I think about it now and I know all the things I would have missed if my dad hadn't found me that day.

"I would have missed out on meeting Rico and the incredible friendship we built. I wouldn't have connected with you and Danny again. I would have missed out on my second kiss and falling in love. I would have missed out on three more years with my parents, who are pretty awesome people. I would have missed out on life, Lacey! I know it seems dark to you right now and I know it feels like it will never get better but, it will. It does. But you can't get to the other side if you give up."

Lacey broke down into tears then, a week's worth of emotion spilling out of her without warning. "I'm tired, Jo," she wept raggedly, "I'm so, so tired. This is just one more thing in a long line of horrible things and I can't deal with it anymore!"

Jo gathered Lacey against her, stroking her heaving back in soothing circles. "I know," she commiserated, "I know you're tired but we're going to find another way, okay? We're going to find a different solution, Lacey, because that isn't an option at all."

"How is it supposed to be okay without him?"

"It won't be okay," Jo told her, "It's going to suck and it's going to be hard and you're never going to get over it."

Lacey drew back with a teary sniffle. "This is not convincing me, Jo."

"The point is that it should be hard. You love him. So do I. There's always going to be this empty space in our lives where he should have been. But he lives on in us, Lacey, through our memories of him. Besides his mother, no one knows Danny like we do, like you do. If you stop fighting then Danny really does die...and in a much more permanent way."

"I feel like you're asking me to do the impossible right now."

"That's because you can't do it on your own," Jo told her, "You need your family and friends to support you." She fell silent a minute, giving Lacey time to let those words sink into her head and heart before she said, "I have to tell your mom about this...about your thoughts and your plans. You know that, right, Lace?"

"I don't want you to do that. She'll be all over me. She'll put me away in a hospital, Jo!"

"I think maybe you need that."

Lacey surged to her feet with a strident protest. "No! We've talked about it! I'm better. I promise I won't try anything!"

"I don't believe you," Jo replied thickly, "I don't want to come in here one day and find you hanging from your bedroom ceiling, Lacey! I think I can take a lot but not that." Lacey set her jaw in response, tears of frustration and futility streaming down her cheeks. "Now it would be easier if you came down with me and explained what you've been feeling but...regardless of your choice, I'm going downstairs and telling your mom everything. I'm sorry if that makes you angry but I'd rather have you hate me than have you dead."

After Judy Porter got over her initial surprise that Jo was even in the house at all, she ran the gambit of emotions from shock to dismay to paralyzing fear as her eldest daughter sat down with her and quietly confessed how she had methodically planned out her own suicide. When she was done speaking, Judy felt like she wanted to throw up. "I thought you were going to your therapy sessions," she accused Lacey brokenly, "I thought you were taking your meds!"

"I have been!" Lacey cried.

"It's not an automatic cure all, Mrs. Porter," Jo interjected, "The medications take several months to build up levels in your bloodstream. Therapy is only as good as the therapist. I know a great one. He's helped me out more than you know."

"I...I think it would be a good idea for you to go into the hospital, Lacey," her mother stammered, essentially bringing Lacey's worst fears to fruition, "Maybe that's what we should have done in the first place. Maybe that would have been better for you."

"No, Mom! I don't want to go into a mental facility. I don't need that. I just...I need time. I need help. I need you. Please don't send me away."

"I don't know if I can give you the help you need, baby. The things you just told me...that scares the hell out of me."

Lacey started to reassure Judy that she didn't have to be scared but, at the precise moment she opened her mouth, her cell phone vibrated in the pocket of her jeans. She pulled it free despite her mother's impatient reprimand that it wasn't the time to take a phone call. Lacey took one look at the caller screen and held up her hand for quiet. "It's Mrs. Desai," she said, "Give me a second." She answered the call and said with some measure of dread, "Hi. Do you have some news?"

"Honey, is Jo there with you?" Karen asked hoarsely.

The query instantly caused Lacey's heart to contract with alarm. She reached out to blindly grope for Jo's hand. "She's right next to me. What is it?"

"Is it possible for you both to arrange coming back here...I mean as soon as possible...tonight, if you can?"

"I can ask my parents but I know something can be arranged," Lacey told her, ignoring the anxious looks Jo kept throwing her, "Why? Has something happened with Danny?"

"He's not improving. The doctors here seem to think we're prolonging the inevitable so... I've made the decision to take him off of the breathing machine. We're going to make him comfortable and we're going to let nature take its course. I thought that you and Jo would want to be here when it happened."

"Yes...yes..." Lacey replied woodenly though, at that very moment, she had no idea what she was saying. She had resigned herself to the inevitable probability that Danny would die but she had always imagined that he would slip away in his sleep. She had never anticipated that it would involve removing him from the ventilator and watching him struggle to take his last breaths. She wanted to ask a million questions. She wanted to challenge the decision altogether but in the end she promised, "We'll be there tonight. We'll find a way and we'll be there tonight."

"What is it?" Jo demanded frantically when Lacey ended the call, "What did she say?"

Lacey turned to regard her mother with dull eyes. "You can put me in the hospital," she said gruffly, "I don't care. Do what you want. But it's going to have to wait until after tomorrow. Mrs. Desai has decided to take Danny off of life support."