“Very simple,” Dr. Orloff said. “We’re going to sedate Jack and transfer a very small amount of blood-bank blood to him.”
Robert walked to Lily and eased Jack from her arms. “Because of the hemoedema, Jack’s circulation is affected, and his organs aren’t getting the amount of blood they need to function properly. He needs a bone marrow transplant, but a transfusion will increase his red blood cell count and his blood volume. It should last several weeks.”
Lily’s arms felt empty without Jack. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to let this upset her, but as she watched Robert lay her baby on the bed, a stab of melancholy went right through her center. All she’d ever wanted was for him to be healthy and happy and have all the things she hadn’t.
Like a mother and father.
The thought seemed to come out of nowhere and hit her with surprising force. Vaguely, she was aware of Dr. Orloff scrubbing with iodine soap up to his elbows, humming a tune that was much too cheery for this dreary basement room. Unbearably anxious, she stood next to Robert and watched him administer the sedation. Jack cried briefly, then settled, his eyes drooping. “He looks so tiny lying there all alone,” she said.
“He’s not alone,” Robert said. “We’re with him. He’s going to be fine.”
She looked at him and in the blue depths of his eyes she saw the truth of those words, felt it in her heart. And as impossible as it seemed, she knew that somehow things were going to work out.
“Here we go.”
Lily stepped back when Dr. Orloff walked over to them with the tray upon which was the intravenous needle.
“Let me,” Robert said.
Dr. Orloff passed the needle to Robert. Lily watched, transfixed, as Robert expertly inserted the IV into Jack’s tiny vein. She winced when Jack whimpered. She leaned toward him and put her hand on his forehead. “It’s all right, sweetheart,” she said quietly. “Mommy’s right here.”
“He’s doing great,” Robert said once the needle was in place.
“I think I’m the wreck,” she said.
“You’re doing fine.”
“I’m glad it’s you who’s doing this.”
Her heart beat a little fast when he smiled at her, but the moment was broken when Dr. Orloff rolled the wheeled IV tree and collapsible bag of donor blood. “Thirty milliliters. Type A.”
Robert double-checked the label, then attached the length of tube to the IV needle in Jack’s arm. “Right.”
“How long will this take,” Lily asked.
“About an hour.” Without looking at her, Robert crossed to the second bed, kicked the brake up and rolled it closer to the bed where Jack lay. “You’re exhausted. Why don’t you lie down and try to get some sleep?”
She shook her head automatically. “There’s no way I can sleep with Jack—”
“Dr. Orloff will be here to monitor him.”
“Where are you going?”
Robert grimaced. “I’ve got to check in with one of my colleagues.”
Lily wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t believe him. Ever since he’d come to her door she’d sensed that he was keeping secrets from her. She couldn’t imagine why. But if she’d learned anything since coming to Rebelia, it was that ignorance was never bliss.
“You’re lying to me,” she said quietly. “And I don’t understand why.”
Dr. Orloff looked at them sharply from his place at the counter across the room, then returned his attention to the chart as if realizing he was eavesdropping on a personal conversation. Glancing over his shoulder, Robert took her arm and guided her to the door, then into the hall and closed the door behind them. “Don’t ask any more questions, Lily. I’m not going to answer them.”
“You’re not telling me something.”
“I’m not telling you a lot of things.”
“That makes me feel a hell of a lot better.”
“You’re going to have to trust me on this.”
“I do. I just…don’t like being kept in the dark.”
He stared at her for a long time before speaking, then removed a tiny disk the size of a watch battery from his breast pocket. “I want you to keep this on you at all times,” he said.
Lily opened her hand and he dropped the disk into her palm. “What is it?”
“Don’t ask me that, Lily,” he said. “Please. Just…trust me. Keep it for me, okay? Keep it with you at all times no matter what.”
“All right,” she said, baffled and growing increasingly anxious.
“When I come back, I want you to come with me to give a statement to some people I’ve been working with.”
“Statement? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Bruno DeBruzkya.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I think you know him.”
“What’s going on, Robert?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Damn it—”
Jaw tight, he yanked open the door and crossed to where his backpack leaned against the wall and hefted it over his shoulder. “Dr. Orloff, if you need me for any reason you’ve got the number to my satellite phone.”