Juliet waves as she walks toward the doors. Hurry, hurry, Lauren thinks, knowing she’s being unreasonable; the DNA results will take hours to be returned. She curses herself, why hadn’t they done this before? Why hadn’t they been ready? Anticipated the worst?
Because the insurance won’t pay for what if tests, Jasper’s voice echoes in her head, and she cringes at the thought of what this is going to cost them, the first time she’s really allowed herself to have the thought. Mindy has tried to talk to them about it, but they’ve brushed it off. Even with their excellent insurance, the finances are going to be an issue now that they have to move into a whole different stage of treatment. It takes money to raise an athlete of Mindy’s caliber. Jasper’s lawyering pays well, and Lauren’s art makes up the difference. But adding hundreds of thousands in hospital bills and medications and new treatment protocols is going to strain them. And if they need to do experimental treatments, apply for studies...
It won’t happen. This is going to work. It has to work.
“Aren’t you freezing?” Juliet asks when she reaches her, shaking her hair, snow slipping to the ground.
“No,” Lauren answers, though she is, she is frozen to her core, to the bone. Everything rides on one of the three of them being a match. Everything.
“Let’s go. They’re ready for you upstairs.”
She pretends not to see Juliet’s lips compress at not being properly greeted or welcomed, just marches away into the hospital, knowing her sister will follow. Later, she’ll apologize. Later, when things aren’t so murky and scary.
Lauren hasn’t ever needed Juliet before, not like this, and it makes her terribly uncomfortable. They are so dissimilar, the two of them. One a scientist, one an artist. One a loner, the other a mother, a wife, a coach. Lauren sometimes feels badly about the distance between them, but then she looks at Mindy, at her accomplishments, and knows she’s done right to be 100 percent present for her daughter, even if it means she’s isolated herself from the only family she has. Mindy is the only one who’s ever truly mattered to Lauren, then, and now.
In the elevator, she offers the finest olive branch she can think of. “I wish you were running the tests. At least I’d know they were right.”
Juliet looks surprised, then shyly pleased. “They’ll be right. I’m sure we’ll find a match. Dr. Oliver knows what he’s doing.”
“I’d have believed you without a second thought if the chemo was working. She’s so weak, Juliet. It’s made her so sick. And the cancer is still eating her alive, despite all he’s done.”
“That happens sometimes. Hang tight, okay? Have faith.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Knock it off, Lauren. I’m as upset about this as you are.”
“Are you?” The elevator dings and Lauren’s hand goes to her throat. “God, Juliet, I’m sorry. I haven’t slept, I’m worried, I’m—”
“I know. I know. So stop, okay? Stop snapping, stop apologizing. It is what it is. Let’s go see Mindy, let me give her a hug, then I’ll take the test.”
8
That evening, Juliet sends Lauren and Jasper to the cafeteria for food before it shuts down. They are haggard, both of them, pale and gray-skinned. She instructs them to eat a decent, hot meal and take a break. She’s happy to watch over Mindy for a while.
Lauren begins to protest, but Jasper grabs her hand and gives Juliet a grateful smile.
“We’ll see you in an hour.”
“Take two. I’m not going anywhere.”
Mindy sleeps through it all. The emotions of the day have been grueling, and she’s finally crashed.
Standing at the end of the bed, watching her, Juliet is filled with love. What a magnificent creature her sister has created. What a wonderful young woman they’ve raised.
Juliet sees a red light out of the corner of her eye. The electronic chart on the screen across the room has an update. The system is state of the art—the lab tests show up the moment they’re finalized. She can’t help herself, she moves closer. It has to be the DNA results. It has to. The timing is impeccable.
Any minute now, the doctor will come into the room and tell them who is a match.
Or she can look herself...
She’s been around the hospital long enough to see the password to the system. The nurses don’t try to hide it—who would want to log in and look at the charts, most of which are in gibberish scientific code so dense most laypeople can’t understand them?
But Juliet isn’t a layperson.
She glances once over her shoulder at the door, which is cracked but almost closed. No one will know.
She crosses to the computer and types in the password she’d seen the nurse use earlier in the evening. The system is tied directly to the lab, and the email is bolded.
Case #867745453 Results Ready
Juliet clicks on the file and begins to read.
Confusion fills her.
There is no DNA match. The results from the three of them—well, Juliet knew it was a long shot for Jasper to be even a peripheral match, but Lauren and Juliet should at least share a few markers with Mindy. Maybe not enough for a stem cell transplant, but as mother and aunt, the mitochondria should match.
She runs through the screens again. It isn’t possible. They don’t match Mindy at all.
How can this be? She shakes her head. The lab has made a mistake.
She checks the name of the lab. It is a private firm out of Denver that is incredibly well respected. She knows the head of the lab, Cameron Longer. The odds of his people making a mistake of this magnitude...no, they must have been given the wrong sample for Mindy. It will be a huge fuss; they will have to retest her. It could cost the lab the contract with the hospital.
Perhaps Juliet can help a different way. She can call Cameron and tell him they need to redo things, and quickly. Help them avoid a costly and embarrassing mistake.
“Ma’am? Excuse me, what exactly are you doing?”
Juliet jumps away from the computer, smack into Mindy’s tray, which tips over, spilling everything from water and Kleenex to ChapStick on the floor with a clatter. Mindy jerks awake.
“Aunt J? What’s the matter?”
“Ma’am, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Mindy, it’s fine.” And to the nurse, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just checking to see if I could access the internet off this thing.”
The nurse slaps the keyboard up into place, effectively shutting off the machine. “You can’t. It’s an intra-hospital system. No outside internet.”
“I see that. Sorry, just wanted to check the storm, my phone battery is dead and the charger is out in the car.”
The nurse isn’t buying it, but Juliet ignores her stares and goes to Mindy’s side. “Hey, kiddo, it’s all good. Just your clumsy aunt knocking everything off your tray.”
She bends and picks everything up, mind whirling. She needs to move fast if she is going to get in touch with Cameron.
“Don’t let me catch you messing with the computer again, ma’am.”
“Of course not. It’s of no use to me, I couldn’t get in. You have a password on that thing, you know.”
The nurse glares at her once more, then leaves the room, probably to report the incident and get the passwords changed. The system is secure, yes, but this is a hospital, one of the most insecure environments in the world. Anyone can walk in, take an elevator up to any floor, and walk into a room. Who’s to say they couldn’t pick up a password or two, dive right into the patient files? Records can be hacked, altered, stolen. It’s a nightmare for security, both in person and online.
Mindy rubs her eyes. “What’s wrong? You look like you saw a ghost.”
“That chick scared the you-know-what out of me, that’s all.”
“Why were you snooping in my chart?”
Oh, precocious child. She hadn’t been asleep the whole time.
“Don’t tell on me.”
“I won’t.”
“I was looking to see if the DNA results were back yet. Which they weren’t. It was all a waste of my oh-so-excellent covert ninja skills.”
She spies the ChapStick across the room, picks it up.
Mindy giggles. “Yes, you’re a ninja all right. Where’s Mom?”
Eating her dinner in happy ignorance.
“I sent them to the local broom closet for a date. Figured they could use some alone time.”