EMMA
By the time the sun went down that evening, tests had confirmed that Ted Girard was fighting off a massive infection. It had happened fast, but that wasn't unusual, not in someone whose cancer was as advanced as Ted's was.
"All we can do now is treat what we can and keep him comfortable." Deacon stood next to his father's bedside, staring down at the slight figure. Ted had been non-responsive since his seizure, but the CT hadn't shown any visible brain damage.
"What do you think?" I glanced up at Deacon's face as we moved into the hall. "What are his chances?"
Deacon shrugged. "I don't know. Probably not great. But Ted's an enigma. If I expect him to die tonight, he'd probably pull through just to prove me wrong." He sighed and shook his head. "Will you think I'm a horrible per
