REMI'S POV
Dr. Okafor's office on a Friday afternoon — the same room it had been at thirteen weeks, the same unhurried quality, the same examination table that had become unexpectedly familiar across what felt like a compressed lifetime of appointments. Okafor herself moved through the preparation with the steady competence she'd maintained since the first visit, which had been, over four months, the most reliably grounding presence in my medical life.
Dax was in the chair beside the table.
He'd asked Wednesday — in the careful way he asked things he wasn't certain of the answer to, directly but with something underneath the directness that was not strategic. That was careful in the way a person is careful with something that matters to them. The scan on Friday. I'd like to be there, if
