"Molly?" She sighed. "Yes, Drew?"
"I... I want to help you..."
"Help me what?"
"I want to help you be happy. I can't stand to see you like this..."
"See me like what?" She snapped. "As an animal? Huh? Is that it?"
"No, Molly, it's not that, but you've been so sad and distant lately, and I can't stand it. I have to do something!"
She walked over to me. "What were you thinking of?" I pulled something out of my pocket. "Look, before we left the circus, I took this."
It was a business card, with a number and e–mail on it. "I thought, maybe we could track them down, and see if they have a cure."
Molly contemplated for a while. "If it doesn't work?"
I sighed. "Then... I'll ask them to inject me, too."
"What? No!" She slapped me. "You don't even understand what that would mean! You'd be a laughingstock for the rest of your life!"
"Then what should I do? Let you waste away like this? Molly, I swear, I'll never leave you, even if I have to turn into an animal."
We were silent for a moment.
"Fine, but please, if you can't find a cure, don't do this to yourself."