She pelted Dr. Rothwell with questions, refusing to let him out of her sight until she understood his answers—as far as she was able. He was a patient, kindly man, and he assured her he’d do everything in his power to help Mei survive.
She believed him. Just as she believed his assurances to Grace who seemed bound and determined to shoulder the blame for Mei’s sudden downhill slide.
“I shouldn’t have pushed for peritoneal dialysis. Maybe if she’d been on haemodialysis….” Grace turned her face away, struggling to keep it together, doubting her own training and competence.
“Haemodialysis wouldn’t have prevented this,” Dr.. Rothwell told her. “No one could have prevented this. You and I both know it happens, Grace. No-one knows why. You must stop blaming yourself.”
Cold comfort for Grace, who even though she had been through similar instances with other patients, couldn’t stop herself from voicing the “maybes” and the “I wishes” and the “if onlys”. Grace loved Mei like her own sister. Of course she would blame herself for Mei’s sudden deterioration.
Jade knew it wasn’t her friend’s fault. Deep down, she knew there was nothing she could have done to prevent this either. But she couldn’t forgive herself for being happy with Malach while Mei was quietly, secretly, becoming more and more ill.
Lìli coped in her own way, kneeling at Mei’s bedside and praying to whatever deity or deities she believed in. To Jade’s surprise, Grace joined her. “I’ll take all the help for Mei I can get,” Grace said.
But Mei was having none of it. “None of us should be praying for someone’s death so that I can live. It’s wrong and I won’t do it. And neither should any of you.”
They ignored her, and continued their prayer vigil.
Jade refused to join them. She knew prayer was useless. Mei wouldn’t be here, dying in this hospital bed, if prayers were answered.
As she dozed in the chair beside Mei’s bed, she found herself wishing her parents had been able to have more children so maybe one of her siblings might have been a match for Mei. She knew it was a ridiculous wish, because if her parents had been able to conceive another child, they wouldn’t have adopted Mei in the first place. But she couldn’t help wishing it.
She wished they’d been able to trace Mei’s birth parents—maybe they’d have been willing to help her by donating a kidney if they’d known of her illness.
She wished for a hundred impossible things, and when she’d stopped torturing herself with impossibilities, she wished for a disaster with a high death toll and a wide choice of organ donors. Heck, if she’d had some psychic power that enabled her to walk up to a person and know their blood type—know for certain their kidneys would be suitable for Mei—she’d have fallen on them, ripped a kidney from their body with her bare hands, and personally carried it to the transplant team.
Malach spent his time charming the nurses, bringing endless cups of coffee or tea for Grace and Lìli, and piles of trashy gossip mags for Mei. Whenever Mei was awake, he made her laugh by perching on the side of the bed and haltingly reading aloud the outrageous headlines, and “true-life” reader stories and letters. And then, after coaxing Jade, Grace and Lìli down to the café for lunch, he disappeared.
It never occurred to Jade to wonder where the man who’d been her entire life for three weeks had disappeared to. All her energy and focus was on Mei. She had no time for lovers. And when Lìli finally consented to head home in a taxi provided Grace promised to ring her if there was any change in Mei’s condition, all Jade could feel was relief.
Part of her hoped Grace would go, too. Another part of her was grateful Grace stayed, but only because then she had someone to fetch food and drink, or talk to the nurses and doctors out of Mei’s earshot, so Jade didn’t have to leave Mei’s side. She wasn’t prepared to risk being away from Mei for even one second.
Their time together was far too precious. And it was running out.
~~~
Chapter Fourteen
Dr. Rothwell gently shook Jade awake. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot and questions she wasn’t sure she wanted answered had already formed on her lips when she noticed the mile-wide grin on his face. She exhaled slowly through her nose and dared to hope again.
He gave her a thumbs up before turning his attention to Mei, who was still sleeping. He pulled the bottom of her sheet free from the mattress to expose her feet, and gently tickled her soles until she twitched and pried open her eyelids. “Excellent news, Mei. We’ve found you a donor kidney!”
Jade watched the hope light up her sister’s eyes, transforming Mei’s features into something ethereal and angelic, otherworldly… and then reality bit, leaching away the beauty to leave sunken eyes and sallow skin stretched over frail bones. Mei buried her face in her pillow and refused to look at either Jade or her doctor.
Anxiety gnawed at Jade, chasing away her relief. What if Mei was too weak to survive the operation? What if she refused to have the operation at all?
She couldn’t think like that. Not now. Not ever. “Don’t tell me you’ve discovered my blood-tests were wrong and I’m a match?” Her sad attempt at humor fell flat.
It’s good news, Mei,” Dr. Rothwell insisted. But Mei didn’t respond.
He tried again. “No-one died so you could live, Mei. We have a live donor.”
Mei stilled. She turned her head and stared at him. “We do?”
Dr. Rothwell beamed from ear to ear. “Yes. All the tests show we’re good to go. We’re prepping him now.”
Jade snagged his sleeve as he straightened from the careful hug he’d given Mei. “Who?”
“Friend of yours, as I understand it. Malach—” He glanced at the chart tucked under his arm. “Malach Stone.”
For the space of a heartbeat, Jade’s world ground to a halt. And when time resumed, she was left with a startlingly clear insight into Malach’s character. Here was a man she would be proud to spend the rest of her life with. A man she could love for real.
He’d been off on his own, with no one to hold his hand while he put his trust in strangers wielding needles and vials and a bewildering array of equipment. There had been no one to comfort him while he gave himself over to technology that had to have seemed terrifying and godlike. There had been no one to reassure him while he conferred with Mei’s specialist and struggled to comprehend a procedure he’d probably never in his wildest dreams imagined could be possible. There had been no one standing by his side, telling him how much they loved him and cared for him, while he prepared to risk his life to give a young girl another chance—a girl he’d met three weeks ago, who wasn’t even of his world, who had no claim on him whatsoever.
“Interesting name for an interesting man,” Dr. Rothwell was saying. “Healthiest forty-one year old I’ve ever seen in my life. Seems he’s never touched a drop of alcohol, his cholesterol is so low even I’m in awe, his blood pressure’s superb, and aside from a few interesting scars he’s in peak physical condition. He tells me he got those from some mock battle that got out of hand.” The doctor snorted his disbelief. “A likely story. Bet he was SAS or Special Ops. Anyway, he’s a compatible tissue type. And regardless of how those scars were inflicted, there’s nothing wrong with his kidneys. Even better, he’s more than happy to give one up to you, young lady.” He chucked Mei under the chin. “So stop moping and hug your sister. She looks like she needs one. I’ll be back in a while, okay?”
It’d never even crossed Jade’s mind to consider Malach as a donor. But it had crossed his. And he’d acted upon it.
“Hang on!” Jade’s outburst had Dr. Rothwell turning back to her with a worried frown. “I thought it took months to do a full work-up for a live donor cross-match?”
Dr. Rothwell’s frown etched deep lines between his brows. His gaze lost focus. From the way he tilted his head to the side, he seemed to be waging some internal debate. Then his expression cleared and he smiled. “We fast-tracked it. We’re nothing if not efficient here at RPA,
eh? But rest assured, we’ve been extremely thorough. HLA tissue type, CDC cross-match, flow cytometry cross-match, ABO blood-group compatibility, renal function assessment, complete blood workup, renal angiogram.” He ticked each one off on his fingers. “We’ve done ’em all, Jade. Anything else you need reassurance about?”
She shook her head. She sensed Pieter’s gnarly old paws all over this, and figured there was no point in pointing out to Dr. Rothwell the sheer impossibility of having all those tests performed, and the results confirmed, in the space of twenty-four hours, Doubtless the hospital records would show all the necessary tests had been completed and that Malach had passed with flying colors. She only hoped Pieter knew what he was doing.
“Thanks, Dr. Rothwell,” she said. “Sorry to be such a pain in the bum.”
“No problem, Jade. Completely understandable.” He bustled from the room and the instant he’d cleared the doorway, Grace burst in.
“You’ve heard the news?”
“Malach’s donating me one of his kidneys,” Mei whispered, her face shining with hero-worship-style awe.
“Yep!” Grace kissed Mei’s cheek. Then she snatched Jade into her arms and pulled her into a clumsy little dance of joy.
“How on earth did you find out so quickly?” Jade managed to ask. Grace had dashed off to run some errands for a couple of hours yesterday, but had otherwise stayed glued to Mei’s bedside before finally heading home to bed about midnight.
She gave an evil cackle. “I haf vays of making zem talk. After Malach confessed his intentions and I got him in to see Rothwell, I strong-armed one of the lab staff into texting me when the results came through. Let’s just say he owed me one and leave it at that, shall we?”
Yes, Jade thought. Let’s.
Grace released Jade to dance over to Mei and hug her again. Jade stumbled to the chair, sinking into it, her brain awhirl. Malach had confided in Grace but not her? Why?
Grace answered her unspoken question. “Don’t get upset, J.” She reached over to squeeze Jade’s wrist. “He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to get your hopes up. That’s why I didn’t mention it, either. Please don’t be angry.”
“It’s okay. Better this way, huh? Especially since it’s turned out to be the best news we could have, and—” An unwelcome thought slapped her and she wrapped her arms around her middle.
Malach’s suitability as a donor might be the result of some magical behind-the-scenes manipulation by the Crystal Guardian, but what about Malach’s desire to be a donor in the first place? She had to believe that was all him. To believe otherwise was too horrific for words. To be given no choice in the matter….
Then an even worse thought struck her, leaving her choking down panic. Had the Testing come early? Was her bond to Malach about to be Tested in an operating theater beneath a surgeon’s scalpel?
She dug her fingernails into her hands. Could this vengeful goddess of Pieter’s be so cruel that if they failed the Testing, the price she’d extract would not only be Malach’s life but her sister’s, too?
There were only two people she could talk to about the intentions of goddesses and the like without being dragged off to the psych ward. And since Pieter was conveniently absent, Jade borrowed Grace’s cell phone and excused herself to ring Lìli on the pretext of telling her the good news.
Lìli listened silently until Jade had run out of words.
“You need to talk to Malach, Jade. You love him and you need to tell him so before he goes into surgery.”
Her heart shattered into teeny tiny pieces and she clutched the receiver so tightly her knuckles were white and bloodless. “You don’t think he’s going to make it, do you?”
“Tell him, Jade. He needs to know. A man who’s been through what he’s been through, needs to know he has someone who needs him to survive—someone who loves him.”
“What do you know, Lìli Yiyi? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Just tell him you love him, you foolish girl!”
“But I—” The phone clicked in Jade’s ear as the line went dead. “You hung up on me? She hung up on me!” she announced to no-one in particular.
What the heck was the point of telling Malach she loved him if she wouldn’t know for sure until Lìli’s spell wore off? If she confronted him now and told him to his face how she felt, would Pieter’s goddess hear a lie as soon as she uttered the words “I love you, Malach”?
Jade couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t risk Mei. She had to play this out and hope that if what she felt for him wasn’t real, she’d still manage to fool Pieter and his goddess.
Better to keep her declarations of love bottled up inside her. Better to let Lìli’s spell do its work and hope that actions spoke louder than words. Jade sure acted as though she were head-over-heels in love with Malach, and vice versa for that matter. That would have to be enough.
She leaned her forehead against the wall and hoped with all her heart that if it all turned pear-shaped, Malach would forgive her for failing him. She hoped that if the worst happened, Pieter would be swayed by Mei’s innocence in all this and petition his goddess for Mei’s life. And she hoped Pieter’s goddess would listen and grant Mei mercy.
~~~
Jade couldn’t handle it any longer—the waiting, the powerlessness, the overwhelming terror something was going to go terribly wrong. And despite all the practice she’d had in hiding her worries from Mei, now it was hard—desperately hard—not to fall apart. Because now she had two people to worry about. Two people for whom she would willingly trade places on those operating tables in an instant.
She appreciated Grace and Lìli’s unstinting support but she dearly wanted to be alone to shriek her fears at the top of her voice, beat her fists on the nearest wall, or collapse in a quivering heap on the floor, without subjecting her best friend and her aunt to any more worry. Instead, she was forced to do whatever it took to keep it together for the sake of appearances.
Twice already Grace had asked her to quit beating a tattoo on the linoleum with her heels and— Oops, she was doing it again. She shot Grace an apologetic look and hooked her ankles around the legs of her chair. She glanced at the clock on the wall and then quickly looked away, vowing not to look at the damnable thing again. Every passing minute seemed interminable, torturous, and she began to have a greater appreciation of the extent of Malach’s suffering in his crystal prison. Trapped for centuries. Powerless. Conscious of nothing but the passing of time, willing to do anything to escape or make it end. How had he borne it without losing his sanity?
“Jade, please!”
She blinked back to here and now reality to find Lìli gripping her shoulders and pressing her against the back of her chair. “Huh? What’s the matter?” God. What am I doing now?
“You’re doing it again. Rocking. Please, Jade, try to relax. You will help no one if you work yourself into a such a state.”
“Sorry.” She gripped the seat of her chair so tightly her hands ached, all the while keeping her back stiffly upright, knees and feet pressed neatly together. She probably looked like some macabre ventriloquist’s dummy, but she was beyond caring. Focusing on the jabbing ache in her back and the cramping of her fingers was better than the alternative.
Sooner or later, though, Jade suspected she was going to lose it big-time. And she probably wouldn’t even be aware of it until she was racing pell-mell down a corridor waving her arms about, or grabbing the next intern who wandered past and threatening to throttle him unless he told her how Mei and Malach were doing. She caught herself before she started with the rocking thing again and groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“You all right, J?” Grace nudged her with an elbow.
“Yeah.” No. No way. She needed to do something—anything—rather than sit here, at the mercy of time and surgeons and fate. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Want some company?”
Jade shook her head. “’S’okay, Gracie. I need some fresh air. Need
to clear my head.”
“Okay. Here, take this.” Grace thrust her cell phone into Jade’s hands. “I’ll have them call you if anything—” Her mouth twisted. She ducked her head and resumed staring at her feet.
“Thanks.” Jade thrust the ridiculously tiny, state-of-the-art mobile into the pocket of her jeans and strode off down the corridor.
She found herself heading not toward the lifts to find her way outside, but toward Reception. And as she walked, the credit card she kept for emergencies burned a hole in her pocket. It wasn’t until she reached the front desk that she realized what she intended to do. That realization froze her into immobility, causing her to stand there, openmouthed, until a nurse asked her if anything was wrong.
The woman was so kind Jade didn’t feel embarrassed by her lapse. Guess everyone here was used to people losing it. Transplant wards were not the kind of place people would normally choose to spend their time. Despite this ward’s cheery colors and the bright paintings adorning its walls, to Jade it seemed tainted by the pain and despair of all those who ended up mourning when things didn’t go to plan.
The nurse directed her to payphones that took credit cards. Jade snagged the most private corner booth, and fished around for the printout from the People Finder website that she’d secreted in her handbag. The subscription fee had been such a small amount to pay for such potentially life-changing information. She unfolded it, smoothing out the creases. She stared at the address and phone number printed on it for a long time.
Should she? Would it put Mei at risk? Would Pieter’s goddess exact retribution, or would it count in Jade’s favor that she could be so selfless as to offer Malach a choice?
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