The Price Of A Clean Conscience

Summary

I was running the unapproved meds from down south. Not India, but across the border, hidden in shipments of cheap textiles and knock-off sneakers. Every run was a tightrope walk over the DEA and Customs.

I’d carefully cross-reference the patients’ charts. Every vial was divided by treatment cycle, taped with a label showing the patient's name and precise dosage.

I charged twice the black-market cost to cover my risks and travel, but it was still only a fraction of what Big Pharma was asking. I never sold to anyone who couldn't show a verified, recent diagnosis.