An Impossible Dilemma: A Psychological Thriller Novel Read Online Free Page A

she?"
    I nodded. "Yeah. I'm really worried. She’s got no energy at all and absolutely no appetite." I shook my head and placed one hand over my mouth, taking a deep breath, trying hard not to break down.
    "I couldn't understand her. I had to make her repeat herself over and over," Steph said.
    "I'm sorry, I should have warned you. She sounds like she's drunk, doesn't she?"
    Stephanie nodded. "I didn’t want to say, but yes, she does, and she's so frail. She was never a big girl, but there's nothing left of her now."
    Tears filled my eyes, and I buried my face in the tea towel, unable to hold them back any longer.
    "I'm sorry, Vic. I didn't mean to upset you.”
    "No. It's not you. Tears are never very far from the surface lately.”
    Stephanie hugged me and stroked my hair as uncontrollable sobs escaped me.
    "What did the doctor say?"
    "We go for the results on Monday." I hiccupped.
    Steph nodded. "Okay."
    "Come on, the food'll be cold. I made your favourite, lasagne," I said, wiping my eyes on the towel once more.
    "Yum. Come on then, what are we waiting for?" The mood suddenly lifted again.
    I was so pleased to have her here. Not just for the extra help around the place, but because of the emotional support she would provide. And for the laughs that followed her around everywhere—God knows we needed more laughs around the place.
    Monday loomed. I needed to know what was wrong with my baby, but I knew from the bottom of my heart that it wasn't going to be good news.

 
    Chapter 3
    Doctor Wilson shuffled the papers on the desk in front of him. He seemed to be avoiding our gaze.
    Jonathan’s jaw clenched and unclenched over and over, he had dark smudges under his eyes. Neither of us had slept properly in weeks.
    He gave me a tight, half smile and reached for my hand, pulling it onto his lap. He stroked along the top of my knuckles with his thumb.
    Emily sat on the floor to the side of us, leafing through a book we’d found in reception.
    Unable to sit still, my legs twitched uncontrollably to match my erratic heartbeat. My breath struggled to reach my lungs.
    I scanned the room in an attempt to calm myself.
    A bookcase held lots of clues to the private Doctor Wilson. The numerous dead fish he’d held up to be photographed over the years indicated he was a keen fisherman. I could tell they spanned a period of time, simply due to the varying degrees of grey in his hair.
    A large hunk of driftwood commanded one whole shelf, and I couldn’t figure out why it was important—it didn’t look like anything in particular. Several photo frames showed a pretty dark-haired woman and two teenage boys—his wife and sons?
    “Okay then, as you know, the reason you’re here today is for the results of the tests,” the doctor said.
    I almost leapt out of my skin as his booming voice broke the silence of the room. “I’m sorry, I was miles away.”
    He took a deep breath before continuing. “We have all the results back, but I’m afraid I don't have good news.” He paused, as if waiting for his words to sink in.
    Neither of us said a word. Jonathan gripped my hand tighter. I held my breath.
    “The scan shows Emily’s cerebellum is shrinking. The cerebellum is also known as ‘the little brain’ an area of the hindbrain that controls motor movement, coordination, balance, equilibrium and muscle tone. It contains hundreds of millions of neurons for processing data, and relays information between body muscles and areas of the cerebral cortex that are involved in motor control.”
    “Why is it shrinking?” I shrieked, unable to comprehend his words.
    Emily snapped her head around to look at me.
    “There could be a number of reasons. Nine times out of ten we never know the cause, but in this instance we do—Emily is not producing an essential hormone called Proteum that's normally produced in a tiny gland at the base of the skull.”
    “Can she be treated?” Jonathan whispered.
    The room was spinning. How could this be