Chapter 65: A Familiar Face–2
Her brow creased. “Why can’t Sienna just do it? She’s family. Why are we putting our trust in some stranger?”
I took a breath. “Mom. Bone marrow compatibility has nothing to do with nationality or how well you know someone. This man is a complete match. Sienna was never confirmed as a match – she was just a possibility we were pursuing because we had no other options.”
“But the risk of rejection –
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“Is lower with a complete match than it would be with a partial one.” I kept my voice level. “This donor has no conditions. He’s not asking us for anything. He’s just willing to help.”
Martha’s mouth tightened. “If you had just gone to Sienna like I told you to –”
“If I had gone to Sienna,” I said quietly, “Leo would have gotten his surgery in exchange for me signing away every legal right I have and walking away with nothing. That was her offer. I said no.” I looked at her steadily. “And now we have a better option.”
“You and your pride.” Her voice cracked. “He’s all I have. He’s the only child I –
She stopped.
The room went very quiet.
Leo looked at her. Then he looked at me.
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“Mom.” Leo’s voice was calm. “Stop.” He reached over and took the consent forms from my hands. “I’ll sign whatever needs signing. And you’re going to sign the guardian form, because if you don’t, there’s no surgery.” He met her eyes. “And I’m telling you right now – if you try to make Aurora go back to Sienna, I won’t accept the transplant. Not from her. Not under those conditions. I’d rather take my chances.”
“Leo – ”
“I mean it.”
Martha looked at him for a long moment. Her hands twisted together in her lap. Then, without another word, she gave a single stiff nod.
The next two days, I stayed at the hospital. Phineas was traveling for work, so there was no reason to go home, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I slept in the chair beside Leo’s bed and ate vending machine sandwiches and drank terrible coffee from the machine at the end
of the hall.
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Chapter 65. A Familiar Face–2
(Author’s POV)
Claim
On the fourth floor, in the cardiology ward, Joyce Langford was recovering from her cardiac episode.
She was sitting up in her bed, looking out the window, when she said something to her assistant Alice.
“That young woman,” she said. “The one who saved me. I keep seeing her face.”
Alice looked up from her phone. “The one from the street?”
“She looked so much like my daughter.” Joyce’s voice was quiet. “When she was young. Before she got sick.” She shook her head slowly. “I know that sounds foolish.”
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