The oncologist tapped her on the shoulder. Audrey didn’t remember falling asleep, but she must have, given that she hadn’t heard him enter. He spoke quietly to avoid waking Joshua. “Is his father here?”
The subject was a painful one for Audrey. “He lives in Guangzhou. It is just my son and me now.” She had done her best to juggle her career and her marriage, but in the end, her efforts weren’t enough to keep the family intact. Though it was her husband who had left her for a younger woman, she blamed herself for the divorce.
Audrey turned her attention to her son. “How is he?”
“So far, the chemotherapy isn’t working. I’m sorry I don’t have better news for you.”
Audrey could sense the concern in his tone. The doctor had always maintained a stony facade, but now the cracks were evident. “What does that mean?”
“We’ll try one more round, but if he doesn’t respond . . .” The doctor trailed off, then corrected course. “We don’t want to do him any unnecessary harm with additional radiation. We’re doing everything we can, but we’re running out of treatment options. We’ll increase the dosage in the next round and hope we get the results we’re looking for.” He nodded silently, as if to keep hope alive, but it didn’t take a skilled detective to read his doubts.
Audrey leaned toward her sleeping son and stroked his head tenderly. A clump of hair came loose in her hand. She tried to fight back the tears.
As the oncologist departed Joshua’s room and ventured down the hallway with his chart, Audrey chased after him. “Doctor.” He stopped. “Are there any new experimental drugs or studies he could participate in if this doesn’t work?”
“If there were anything else we could do for your son that might increase his chances of a positive outcome, I assure you we’d already be doing it. The treatment he’s getting is the best in the world, but science has only gotten so far with curing cancer.”
Audrey started to speak, then hesitated. The doctor could sense there was something she needed to get out, and waited for her to gather herself. She glanced about her. Seeing no one within earshot, she spoke quietly, knowing that the question she was about to ask was filled with peril. “Are there any alternative medicines we can try?”
“Alternatives?” the doctor asked skeptically, clearly suspecting where the conversation was headed.
“Traditional medicine.” Audrey paused, then forced the words out. “I heard that rhino horn is sometimes used to treat cancer.”
The doctor was visibly upset by the suggestion. “As well as being illegal ”—he stressed the word in case the detective could somehow not know what she was suggesting—“it has no proven medicinal properties.”
In all her years, Audrey had never ventured anywhere near the line separating the lawful from the lawless, and now here she was, speaking in hushed tones about committing a premeditated crime. The lines between sleep and wakefulness, right and wrong—all the dichotomies in her life, for that matter—were beginning to blur.