After finishing the sandwich, the doctor returned.
“Please return this envelope to them for me,” I said, handing it back.
“Sure,” he replied with a warm smile.
When I left the room and began walking toward Elle’s desk, I noticed the doctor approaching Simon in the waiting area.
He handed him the envelope.
Simon looked confused at first.
Then he opened it.
Even from across the room, I could see the surprise on his face when he realized what had happened.
When I finally reached Elle’s desk, I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “Do you think you can get me to see Malaika before she goes in for surgery?”
Elle immediately shook her head. “I can’t do that. It’s not allowed,” she whispered.
“Please,” I said quietly. “This is important to me. I won’t be long, I promise.”
She studied my face before sighing. “Fine,” she said finally, standing up. “Follow me and stay close.”
Elle tapped her access card against the panel, and the soft click of the lock echoed in the quiet hallway.
I followed her into the room where Eleanor and Malaika lay.
My steps slowed the moment I crossed the threshold.
The anesthesiologist had just finished sedating Eleanor and was leaving the room. She lay motionless on the hospital bed, completely unconscious.
I looked at her.
She looked the same.
Her skin was pale under the hospital lights, but the sharpness she carried remained. Even sedated, she looked harsh… cold.
My eyes shifted to the other bed.
Malaika.
Ten years old now.
The last time I had seen her, she had been so much smaller. Now she looked older, taller, though the fear and exhaustion on her young face made my chest tense.
I walked slowly to her bedside and sat down.
A memory surfaced—one that had shaken me only a couple of weeks earlier. I had been standing in a coffee shop waiting for drinks for the children and Geeta when a woman screamed, “Jeremy!” My entire body had locked. I couldn’t breathe. It couldn’t be him—I had seen his body with my own eyes. Still, my heart had pounded violently as I turned, only to see a little boy walk up to the woman and take her hand. He had glanced at me and smiled. I had forced a smile back, even though my hands had been shaking, before grabbing the drinks and rushing back to the car, my fingers trembling against the steering wheel as I drove away.
“Hi,” Malaika murmured drowsily, her voice soft and thick from the medication. Her eyelids fluttered slightly as she tried to focus on me. “Are you my angel?”
My heart squeezed.
The morphine was probably making her say things she didn’t fully understand.
“Hi,” I said gently. “No, I’m not your angel.” I reached out and brushed my fingers lightly through her hair. “But I am here to help you. I’m here to give you the blood that you need.”
Her small face relaxed as she listened.
