“Mr. Keller,” the doctor said, choosing each word carefully, “we have repeated every available protocol. We have consulted specialists from three states. Lucas has a condition so rare that we only found a handful of recorded cases. None of them responded to treatment in a lasting way.”
Brandon swallowed hard and felt the room tilt beneath him.
“So what happens next,” he asked, forcing himself to speak calmly.
Dr. Ivers hesitated, then sighed.
“At this stage, our goal is comfort. I estimate a few days, perhaps a week if his body holds steady. I am truly sorry.”
Brandon stared at his son, whose small chest rose and fell under the blanket.
“There has to be something else,” Brandon said. “I have money. I can fly in anyone. I can buy any machine. Just tell me what to do.”
The doctor shook his head slowly.
“We have already contacted the best facilities in the country. Sometimes medicine reaches a wall. When that happens, all we can do is stand with the family.”
After Dr. Ivers left, Brandon leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the back of his son’s hand.
“How am I supposed to tell Natalie,” he whispered.