Chapter 547

• Joaquin Latham used to be in great shape. He rarely even caught a cold. But now, besides lung cancer, his stomach was a mess too.
• For a moment, he didn’t know whether to take the meds for lung cancer or the pills for his stomach. He pressed his hand to his chest. It felt like his organs were packed full of thumbtacks, stabbing everywhere at once. The pain wouldn’t let up, yet he couldn’t even vent it. He hunched forward, his tall frame curled up in the narrow chair, trembling from the pain. Joaquin could take pain like a champ—he’d grind his teeth and swallow it down, lips clamped shut no matter how bad it got.
• Until he couldn’t hold it back anymore—he opened his mouth and spat blood.