“David died a hero,” he whispered. “He saved my life once.”
“And now you can save your son’s life,” she countered coldly. “Make a choice.” Mike didn’t sleep that night. He stood at Emma’s door, watching her sleep with her old teddy bear.
On her nightstand was a drawing: a mom, a dad, and a white wolf. He almost called the whole thing off, almost convinced himself they’d find another way. Но the next morning, Toby had another coughing fit, and Mike’s resolve crumbled under the weight of his wife’s words: “Choose who gets to live.”
A week later, Mike met Dr. Miller at a diner outside of town. The woman looked exhausted, her hands trembling as she said, “You’re asking me to end a child’s life.” “No,” he whispered, “I’m asking you to save my son.”
The doctor was silent for a long time before handing over a packet of prescriptions and falsified medical records. “I have my own reasons, Mike. Your brother was my son’s commanding officer. He made a choice that saved two men, but my boy wasn’t one of them. I’ve carried that for three years.”
“My God,” Mike exhaled, dropping his head. They formed a plan: small doses of a medication that Emma would take under the guise of vitamins. It was designed to cause a gradual cardiac arrest that would look like a congenital heart defect.
It was foolproof. That night, Mike stood outside looking toward the tree line, where two blue glints caught the light. The wolf was watching, and Mike felt a surge of shame, as if the animal could see right through him.
The first dose was tiny. The pill dissolved in her juice, and Emma drank it without a second thought. She smiled at her uncle, kissed his cheek, and ran for the school bus. Mike stood at the window, clutching the empty glass, feeling something inside him break permanently.
Within three days, Emma looked drained. Her pace slowed, and dark circles appeared under her eyes. Her teacher asked if she was okay, but Emma just said her head felt a little “fuzzy.” By the sixth day, she couldn’t finish her breakfast, complaining of a stomach ache.
Linda snapped at her to eat, but Mike couldn’t take it. He retreated to the barn to drown his conscience. In the woods, the white wolf paced the edge of the property, sensing the change in the girl’s scent—it now carried a bitter, metallic note of sickness.
The wolf howled, a warning to anyone who would listen, but he was ignored. On the tenth day, Emma collapsed at school. When they rushed her to the clinic, Dr. Miller was already there, ready to play her part.
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