And losing the secret she’s held for so long...having it out there, her people knowing, she feels as empty as the husk of an insect, sucked dry by a spider and left to rot on a floor behind a curtain. It has to come out, she has absolutely no other choice, but her life is going to be redefined now. She is no longer simply Lauren Wright, Mindy’s mother, Jasper’s wife, Juliet’s sister. Now she is a woman who held back the truth. A woman with secrets. A woman who lied.
From the beginning, when she made the decision to bring Mindy home, Lauren knew there could come a time when people would find out her baby was adopted. She is lucky, in a way. Her family cares so much they’ve forgiven her. Haven’t they? Or are they simply postponing her punishment until they see the outcome? Have her actions, her denials and secrets, cost the life of her child?
She holds no illusions. If Mindy dies, none of Lauren’s actions will matter. But if Mindy lives, there is a small chance at redemption.
Another text from Juliet.
Hello?
Lauren writes back immediately.
Sorry, I was checking Mindy. That’s incredible news. How quickly can you test him?
I’ll stop by Cameron’s and do a draw, get it into the system immediately. If it’s a match, I’m sure Oliver will want to run his tests first thing. We should know by early morning.
A small gasp, she can’t help it. So soon? Is that even possible?
Us science types can do amazing things if properly motivated. Just tell Mindy to hang in there.
Lauren chews her lip for a moment. Is it him, J? You can tell me.
There is a slight delay, the three dots refreshing and refreshing as if Juliet is typing a huge, long reply, until finally, only three words appear on the screen.
Without a doubt.
And then,
I know we have to have proof, but it’s him. He looks just like her. She looks like him. Now we have to cross our fingers he’s a close enough match for the stem cells.
I’m praying you’re right.
The Nashville homicide folks were very cool. They will be heading the investigation, or a large part of it since the case originates in their jurisdiction. We’ll be working closely with them.
Investigation?
Into how Dr. Castillo got Mindy in the first place. Remember, a woman was murdered. We’ll have to find out what happened. But don’t worry. None of that will affect Mindy. Did you tell Dr. Oliver what I was doing?
“Mom?”
Gotta go, Mindy’s calling. Fly safe.
She stashes her phone in her right back pocket and hurries down the hall to Mindy’s room.
“You okay, sweetie? What’s wrong?”
Mindy is holding an arm across her stomach. So small, suddenly, so wasted. She looks about eight, her eyes huge in her face, her bald head shiny under the light. “I don’t feel so good.”
“Your tummy hurts? What do you want—ginger ale?”
“Yeah.”
“Hang on, honey. I’ll go get some.”
Lauren’s heart hurts. Her Mindy is morphing into another child, another soul. Competitive Mindy hated to ask for anything. She hit her self-reliance stage early, and never grew out of it. Until now. Lauren worries for a moment that she is giving up, that she’s resigned herself, then decides no, the treatment protocol so close to a transplant is especially awful and the antiemetic needs to be adjusted. No going to the dark side, she promises herself. Not when hope incarnate is on a plane west.
She grabs a can from the refrigerator, pours it over a cup of ice, tosses the empty can into the recycling bin. Finds a bendy straw, sees a Sharpie on the counter. She carefully draws on the full cup, a goofy-eyed smiley face, eyes crossed, tongue out, a perfect rendering of an emoji she’s seen Mindy use to indicate she feels silly. Anything, anything, to keep her cheered up, engaged. The drop-off from yesterday’s flush of excitement is frightening. She doesn’t know how to manage it, outside of continuing the daily grind of smiles and assurances.
Will these assurances still be enough if Zack Armstrong isn’t a match? Or will Mindy simply wither away, let herself go, stop fighting? The patient is in control of their recovery, Dr. Oliver has said repeatedly, but at what point does the pressure to control your destiny become too much, and the patient decides to give up?
Lauren witnessed the moment her mother gave up. She died quietly twelve hours later. No fanfare. No drama. Just a small life ending.
Please, God. Please. I’ll do anything if you give her strength. Give her hope. Help me fix my girl.
Back in the room, Mindy sits with her trashcan in her lap.
“Did you get sick?”
“Not yet. It was close, though.” A wan smile, and Lauren hands over the silly-faced cup. Mindy takes a few sips, closes her eyes, then throws it all up neatly into the can.
44
VAIL HEALTH HOSPITAL
“Gastroenteritis,” the nurse proclaims, taking Mindy’s blood pressure and temperature. “There’s a stomach flu making the rounds on the floor. We’re going to give her fluids and some stronger antiemetics, see if we can get her through it quickly. It’s been a twenty-four-hour bug.”
They admit her, start an IV, hang a bag of saline, and get her settled in a room. Apparently, four kids on the floor are showing symptoms too, all of whom were attended by the same overnight nurse who called in sick for her shift this evening.
Everyone assures them it will run its course, but it is a concern. A virus in the hospital is dangerous enough. One on an oncology floor can be devastating. Lauren warns Jasper not to come, and tends to Mindy herself, praying for the best, that she’ll get Mindy through it okay and won’t be felled herself as well.
Hours later, Lauren has just gotten Mindy into an exhausted sleep when a shadow darkens the door.
Juliet, and by her side, a tall, solidly built dark-haired man. Lauren recognizes him from the news reports. He is a little older now, lines around his eyes, some silver threading in at the temples, but not much changed otherwise over the past seventeen years. He looks very tired, very overwhelmed.
Lauren gets to her feet, surprised by how exhausted she feels—oh, no, is she coming down with it?—and gestures for them to go silently into the hall.
Juliet steps out, but Armstrong doesn’t move. He stands in the doorway, staring at the child inside the room, who sleeps fitfully, tethered to an IV. The beeps and moans and chirps and calls surround him, and Lauren watches the tears well in his eyes. She swallows hard, knowing the next few days are going to be the most trying of all their lives, and calmly waits for him to pull himself together.
This is what it’s like to lose a child, she thinks, and her heart surges toward him. As if she can fix this. As if she can give him back the last seventeen years.
He finally sniffs and moves slightly, and that’s when she sees the dog. A dog, in the hospital? What right does he have...and then she notices the harness. A service dog. This man, this big, strapping man, needs a service dog?
Well, he was military. Perhaps something happened on one of his postings, some sort of post-traumatic stress. She’s read a number of stories about PTSD in the paper recently.
Or maybe losing his wife and daughter undid him.
She points to the hall, and he nods, and their silent dance continues until they are well away from Mindy’s door, the dog padding along beside them, nails clicking on the floor.
“She has the stomach flu,” Lauren says finally. “She’s been sick for several hours.”
“She’s so small,” Armstrong says.
“The last few days have been hard on her. Finding out she’s adopted, now getting sick on top of the treatments. She’s tough, but even the strongest can be laid low. I’m Lauren Wright. Mindy’s mother.” She puts out a hand. There is a touch of defiance in her tone. She’s mine, even though she’s yours, too.
“I’m Zack Armstrong. This is Kat.” The dog’s tail thumps against his leg.
Lauren notices Juliet hanging back, almost as if she wants to see how the two will handle things. What is she expecting, Lauren to scream and yell and clutch Mindy to her breast, not let him approach for fear of her child being stolen away? This man represents their best hope of saving Mindy’s life, and at this point, Lauren has abandoned all pretense, except for the tiny voice yelling mine mine mine in the background.
“She’s a beautiful dog,” Lauren says.