The doctor told them:
"The burns are extremely severe. Frankly, with burns like these, the real nightmare is the post-operative recovery. Your family needs to be prepared for a long road."
"The good news is that the patient has an incredibly strong will to survive. We believe he can pull through. This is the surgical consent form. As soon as you sign, we begin."
Silas took the consent form.
His expression twisted with feigned anguish.
But he still opened his mouth.
"No surgery."
"We want to let our child go peacefully. Without pain."
The doctor froze.
"I'm sorry, what? The woman from before, Mrs. Fox, she said—"
Zoe cut the doctor off mid-sentence.
"She's in shock from the accident. She has no idea what resuscitation even means. We're the patient's elders. We have the right to refuse treatment."
She was already waving her hand, rushing things along.
"Hurry up and bring us the do-not-resuscitate form. We need to sign it. The sooner that child is free from suffering, the better."
Under the pressure of both of them, the doctor had no choice but to produce the consent form.
I had just hung up the phone and walked over.
"Refuse treatment??"