The diagnosis came on a Tuesday. Three months, the doctor said. Maybe four if you're lucky.
Maggie O'Brien sat in the doctor's office and nodded like she was listening to the weather report. She folded her hands in her lap and said thank you and left. On the way out, she stopped at a vending machine in the hospital lobby and bought a pack of cigarettes she would never smoke. Jack Callahan was sitting in his car outside the clinic when she came out. He had been sitting there for two...
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