After My Terminal Diagnosis, I Heard My Boyfriend's Family Wishing Me Dead

The day I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer, my boyfriend knelt in the hospital hallway holding me, saying he'd give his own life for one more day with me. The next second, his mouth never moved, but I heard his voice, vicious to the core. Three months is still too long. If Garry Pruitt dies before her, splitting up the inheritance means one more layer of paperwork. I thought the fear of dying had made me hear things, until his mother came in wearing the gown my dead mother left behind, carrying a bowl of soup laced with drugs, tears in her eyes as she coaxed me to drink it.