Chapter 322
Only when she saw the caregiver’s face turning dark red did she finally let go.
Then she leaned weakly against the headboard, her expression distant, and said softly, “Where is Chris?”
Still shaken, the caregiver clutched her throat and gasped for air. Every breath burned going down, and she fought to keep herself from coughing out loud.
Suddenly Skyla looked over at her.
The caregiver flinched hard. “Ms. Jasper… I… I won’t say another word anymore.”
“Call Chris later,” Skyla said. “Tell him I’m not doing well.”
The caregiver nodded quickly.
But when she called, she got the same automated message as before.
She didn’t dare tell Skyla that, so she lied and said no one had answered.
That afternoon and again that night, she called countless times, and every time the result was the same.
“Could Mr. Xander really be done with Ms. Jasper?” she wondered.
Inside the special intensive care unit, the doctor said quietly, “Mr. Xander, the baby is sleeping deeply now. You can put him back down.”
Chris had been holding him in that same position for two hours.
He sat at the bedside, his back straight, and turned his head slightly to look at the little boy asleep on his shoulder.
The child’s head rested crookedly against him, one chubby cheek squished from the pressure. His tiny mouth hung slightly open, and a thin trail of drool had dampened Chris’s shoulder. Soft little snores drifted out now and then, mixed with the faintest whimper.
Chris carefully supported the little boy under the bottom and shifted him into his arms. But he didn’t lay him down right away. He kept holding him there, looking down at the patch of reddened skin on his cheek from where it had been pressed against his shoulder. With his other hand, he gently wiped away the tears at the corners of his eyes and the drool from his mouth.
The moment Chris laid him in the bed, the little boy rolled onto his side and reached out blindly with one small hand, feeling around the sheets. Only after Chris tucked one of his worn shirts into his arms did he finally settle down and fall back asleep.
Chris sat there for a while, watching him. Then he gently pulled one corner of the shirt over the small rise and fall of his stomach as he breathed.
He had been born premature. Frail from the start, and with abnormalities present at birth, he was developing more slowly than other children his age.
“Mr. Xander,” the doctor said, “the baby has been uncomfortable for much shorter periods lately, and much less often. The last time he cried like that was a week ago. It looks like a good amount of the toxin has already cleared through his system.
“We also have a better way to manage that now. The hardest part left is still the bone marrow transplant.

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