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Because with each breath that he took, the emotion continued to build on his face. The anger as well as he squeezed his fingers into a fist. The angst in his inhales every time he sucked in air.
The only time it all stopped was when the door opened, Ford’s mom and dad rushing into the room. Dominick and Jenner were right behind. Jo and Kendall too.
Ford’s mom pulled him into a hug.
“Mom, they have my baby girl.”
The sound of him, the pain, it caused me to cry even harder, and Dominick wrapped his arms around me.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” Dominick said, not letting me go.
More arms circled me.
More words were said.
I heard Ford speak. I heard him give answers.
I heard his family’s encouragement that was supposed to make us feel better.
But it didn’t.
The unknown was too much.
I just wanted one thing—we all did.
While we waited, I couldn’t look at my phone.
I couldn’t take a deep breath.
Not until the door opened one final time, a nurse walking into the room, who said, “Which one of you is Ford Dalton?”
“That’s me,” Ford said, taking several steps forward. “Where’s Everly? What’s happening to her?”
A stabbing pain shot through my stomach, and I gripped it with both hands, my fingers shaking so badly that I was almost hitting my ribs.
The nurse said, “Everly’s in surgery. She has a ruptured spleen, multiple broken ribs. A concussion. But she’s a little fighter, and we anticipate a full recovery.”
The entire room sighed.
“However, she’s lost a great deal of blood. We need to do a blood transfusion.” She continued to look at Ford, adding, “We’ve had quite a few emergencies today, and we’re running low on O positive. I came out to ask if you’ll donate blood to your daughter.”
He stared at her.
He said nothing.
And after several seconds passed, he took a few steps toward the remaining chair and back to the door.
He was pacing again.
What is he doing?
Why isn’t he rushing out the door to donate his blood?
“Ford?” I said.
He looked at me, and then he glanced at the nurse. “I can’t donate to her. I’m not O positive. I’m AB.”
“AB?” The nurse paused, confusion filling her face. “In my thirty-two years as a pediatric nurse, I’ve never seen or heard of a child having O positive if one of their parents is AB.”
He took a breath, holding it in. “That’s because I’m not her biological father.”
