As I considered the options, I remembered how I had refused to leave Emma behind, no matter how logical or expedient it might have been. She had tried to force the choice on me – had literally pushed me away on that rooftop, trying to make me accept her sacrifice so I could escape. But I had refused to abandon my principles, refused to accept that some lives were expendable, even when the person herself insisted it was the only way.
"I can't administer this treatment without proper testing," I finally told the director. "But I believe I can modify it for compassionate use."
"That won't save him," she protested. "The modified version won't be potent enough."
"It might not cure him," I agreed. "But it could extend his life long enough for us to complete accelerated testing on the full treatment. We work around the clock, pull every string for emergency approvals, but we don't skip the steps that exist to protect patients."
