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“Mom, I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” I whisper back. “I promise.”
“Please don’t throw your life away because of me.”
“My dreams take second place when it comes to your health,” I say.
“You really shouldn’t spend your money on this,” Mom pushes back. “You’ve done enough for me.”
“But not enough,” I reply firmly. “Please, Mom. Let me do this. You were such a good mom, and this is my way of repaying you.”
“Follow your dreams, Emma.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re better,” I retort. “This is what I’m doing of my own free will. I will make sure you’re okay. You can’t talk me out of it. Not now.”
Mom lets out a soft chuckle.
“I could never talk you out of anything, Emma. You were always so stubborn and ambitious. You had your mind set on dancing and never gave up. That’s proof enough.”
“I’m going to make sure you’re okay, Mom.”
She takes in a deep breath. She really knows she’ll never be able to talk me out of this one.
“Thank you, Emma.”
I squeeze her hand again and take in my own deep breath.
“Your operation is today,” I say. “Are you going to be alright? Do you need me to get you anything?”
“Once again, I am going to be perfectly okay,” Mom says. “I always am. I raised you as a single mom, didn’t I? I’m a survivor. One little operation isn’t going to take me out, trust me.”
“Yes, you are a survivor, Mom. Anyone can see that.”
“Thank you for being here with me, Emma.”
“Of course, Mom. Anything for you.”
72
EMMA
I’m walking out of the hospital to find a bite to eat when I’m hit by the sudden realization that August’s big operation should be happening right now. I check the time on my phone... actually, it should beoverright about now.
Yeah, I really should go and see him.
Even if this morning – with August and the surprise visit from his mother - made me angry, it is clear how important this operation is for him. He’ll need the support after it’s done. He’ll need me. I want to make sure everything is okay.
I spin around and head back inside the hospital, quickly asking my friend at the reception desk where Ethan’s room is. If August is going to be anywhere, then he’ll be there – looking after his patient like the good doctor he is.
Knowing where he would be, I head to the children’s ward, glancing around - looking for the doctor in case he’s on the move. No sign of him.
I find the room easily enough. I knock on the door and step in.
I’m greeted by the sight of a small boy sitting up in a hospital bed, and no sign of August.
“Sorry,” I say to the boy, apologetically turning to duck out. “I’m looking for someone, but he’s not here, so I’ll go. Sorry for disturbing you.”
“Who are you?” the boy asks weakly.
I stop.
