Chapter 87

Spent, all I could do was choke for breath between sobs. I felt Don's strong hands on my shoulders. He pulled me to my feet and led me back to the living room.

I fell on to the couch with Suzie. Don brought me glass of water while his wife held me in her arms. She was crying, too.

The rage passed. It was replaced by emptiness and silence. I was numb.

My head was in Suzie's lap. I curled up in the fetal position, still shaking. She stroked my hair and told me everything would be fine.

How can things be fine? I screamed on the inside. I was scared. I was angry. I felt deserted. For the first time in forever, I felt alone.

It took a while, but my breathing became calm. It wasn't regular, but I wasn't short of breath anymore.

"Paige deserves to know," Suzie said after a while. Her voice was filled with sadness. "You need to tell her."

"I know, Mom." McKayla's voice seemed small, like a scared little girl.

Suzie patted me on the shoulder and helped me sit up. She gave me a hug and then got up and left the room.

I looked over at McKayla, nothing but hurt in my eyes.

"Why?" I whispered.

It took her a second. I saw her draw in a deep breath, as if she were steeling her courage. She sat down next to me and took my hands in hers.

"Paige, I've got a disease," she said softly. "No, it's not AIDS or anything you can get. It's called Huntington's Disease. It's a degenerative neurological condition. Think of all the worst symptoms of Alzheimer's and Parkinson's, put them together and that's what I've got."

"Is there a cure?"

"No, honey," she shook her head bitterly. "Not yet. I've got some options for therapy, but it's going to kill me. I don't have any symptoms yet, but they're coming. I could live for five years more years or I could live for forty."

"How..."

"It's a genetic condition," she said. "I got it from my dad. I knew there was a possibility that I'd have it, but I didn't go and get tested until last month. I came back positive for the gene. I just got the results yesterday."

"But surely that's only a pre-disposition ... like alcoholism."

"Not with this one," McKayla said, looking away. "If you've got the gene, you're going to develop the disease. It's just a matter of time."

"We can get through this," I told her. I desperately did not want to let the woman that I loved go. Not like this.

"I don't want to put you through Hell, Paige," she said, putting on a brave face. "Like with Alzheimer's, I'm going to lose my memories and my personality. I'm going to forget you. I'm not going to remember who I am. My body is going to fail me. I'm going to have involuntary muscle spasms like with Parkinson's. People with these diseases don't suffer. It's their loved ones around them who do."

She gave me a heartbroken look.

"I'm not going to be a burden for you," she said quietly.

"Don't I get a say in this?" I asked. "Don't I get a choice? I love you, McKayla. You mean too much to me. We'll work this out. We'll find a way."

"There's no way to make this work."