Page 23 of Booked for Theft

Then the bitter reality settled in onto my shoulders.

My current path had the potential to improve—and save—even more lives.

“I’m ready. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I will give you my best.”

Ten hours after Dr. Won made the first incision and ended Senator Thaddens’s failing life, we made it through the gauntlet of transplants, cholesterol treatments for those at high risk of imminent heart attack, and evaluations for those with tricky blood disorders who needed my help to identify their illness or help them conquer it. I wanted to cry, doubted I would ever feel clean again, and wore more blood and other fluids than I cared to think about.

Two of the procedures had gone sideways on us, although all patients had emerged with their lives and their health improved. We’d just undergone an unexpected transfer of fluids.

Even the medical staff, who I learned provided their own scrubs and was given a stipend from the hospital for their apparel, had gotten messier than normal as a result of the conversation.

Someone, upon realizing I wore more than one patient, had acquired a change of clothes for me; the hospital kept unisex sweats around in case they had a patient in need of something to wear and a hospital gown wasn’t appropriate.

At one point, in an effort to spare my clothing, a doctor had chucked a spare coat my way, but it had shared the same fate as the rest of my attire.

Making use of a staff shower helped keep the tears at bay.

Then, as I held responsibility for making the final call regarding Senator Thaddens’s odds of survival, I volunteered to go into the waiting room to deliver the news to the family and friends of those waiting for word. Emma sat a few chairs down from President Castillo, and I wandered her way, too tired to keep from limping. I sat beside her, stretched out my legs, and sighed.

“Was it a heart attack?” she asked before I had a chance to figure out what to say.

“Yes and no. It was a heart attack, but the heart attack was caused by the early stages of a rare form of heart cancer. The initial scans detected the cancer as scarring. There was nothing I could do to help him, and he would have needed a heart transplant to have any hope of survival. I’m sorry, Emma.”

“I am, too. He was a good man.”

That he had been. “Yes.” I turned my gaze to President Castillo, who watched me with solemn interest. “All transplant recipients are in stable condition and are expected to make a full recovery. None of the organs were rejected, and there were no complications during any of the procedures.” Dr. Pilsir had coached me on what to say, and I appreciated that I could avoid thinking for a while. “Due to the immunosuppressants all the patients will need to take to keep the risk of organ rejection low, visitation will be barred for the next few days. However, the hospital staff will be able to answer all your questions.”

“For Nathan, what do you expect a full recovery will be, do you know?” President Castillo asked.

Dr. Pilsir had anticipated that question, too, and he’d smiled upon giving me the young man’s prognosis. “Just that, Mr. President. He’ll make a full recovery, and after physical therapy, he will be able to lead a normal life. He should not suffer from the same problems with his lungs moving forward, although he will be monitored just to be safe.” Aware if I sat too long I would refuse to get up, I lurched to my feet. “While you are welcome to wait, it’s going to be at least a day before they even consider allowing anyone to visit.”

In good news, my purse had made it unscathed, and I dug out my phone, turned it back on, and sighed at the absurd number of texts waiting for me. In good news, I hadn’t missed many calls, and of the five of them, one had been from Bradley. I didn’t recognize the other numbers, so I assumed they were either politicians hoping to leave a donation or scam callers. I checked Bradley’s texts first to discover he was downstairs waiting for me.

“Thank you, Janette. We’d lost hope. We had the money for the operation, but there weren’t any lungs available.”

I nodded. “It’s hard to get organs, and many patients die before someone compatible shows up. Your nephew was very lucky. Their lungs were the same size, and they matched in all the important elements for the transplant to work. And thank you, Emma. Your quick decision saved a lot of lives today.”

“The doctors were pretty clear about it after the first hour,” Senator Thaddens’s wife replied in a tired, quiet voice. “Even if his heart survived, there was a high probability he wouldn’t wake up. I guess something about the way the heart attack hit damaged his brain.”

I nodded. “Still, his selflessness saved numerous lives today, as did yours. That doesn’t change anything for you, I know. But maybe it’ll help a little knowing.”

“Knowing always helps. But he had cancer?”

“It was early, and it was missed on the scans because of how it was forming,” I confirmed. “There really wasn’t anything anyone could have done about it.”

“Thank you, Janette.”

“You’re welcome. Give me a call if you want to chat.”

“I will,” she promised.

I nodded, turned my attention to the President of the United States, and said, “Mr. President.”

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“That’s a good question. Bradley’s downstairs waiting, so we’ll figure it out shortly, I’m sure.”

“Give me a few minutes,” he requested.