As he spoke, he pulled her back into his arms, kissing her softly. "Annabelle, please don't go. Every second we're apart is torture for me. If you're going to be gone for so long, how am I supposed to live?"
Annabelle Linton's heart ached at his words, so much so that she couldn't speak. It felt as if it were being torn apart.
She was a doctor. She'd known how severe the virus was ever since Mr. Holland had run the lab tests.
The chances of recovery were practically zero. It had no incubation period, making it even more severe than diseases like AIDS.
For now, he had Vivian Yates's medication to delay the progression, but she was convinced a cure had to exist—even if it cost her own life.
She had to go work with Mr. Holland to develop a cure and, in the process, offer herself as a test subject.
'If the tests yield results, that would be for the best.'
'If not, then I'll just have to die before he does.'
'In any case, I won't let anything happen to him on my watch.'
