Seraphina's Point Of View
"Treatment could extend your life," she offered gently, her voice carrying the careful neutrality of someone who'd had this conversation before.
"And at what cost?" The question hung between us like smoke.
"It could also improve your chances of recovery." There was hope in her voice, professional and practiced, but hope nonetheless.
I smiled faintly, recognizing the script we were both following. "Or it could make whatever time I have left feel like a prison sentence. Every day measured in milligrams and side effects."
"Not necessarily." She shifted in her chair, leaning slightly forward. "Modern treatments have come a long way. Quality of life is part of the equation now."
I leaned back again, crossing my arms this time… a barrier, however flimsy, against the weight of her reasonable arguments. "Doctor," I said, my voice quieter now, but steadier, "I've seen what that kind of treatment looks like. Up close."
