“And if that doesn’t work?” Graham said.
“Then we revisit.”
“Eventually,” I said.
Dr. Ostrowski looked at me over her glasses.
“I’m sorry. Who are you?”
“I’m the mother of the boy who found the trial,” I said. “In study hall. While you were planning to bring it up eventually.”
The room went very quiet.
Harper was sitting in the third chair. She hadn’t said a word.
“Dr. Ostrowski,” she said. “Can I say something?”
“Of course, Harper.”
“I’ve done two rounds of chemo,” Harper said. “The first one worked. The second one didn’t. If I do a third one and it doesn’t work, the slot in Philadelphia will be gone. Wyatt read the whole study. He made me read it too. I know what can happen. I know about the ICU and the brain stuff.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I’m fourteen. I know I don’t get to decide. But I want it on the record that I want to go.”
