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“No worries, Natalie,” she interrupted, having already seen the urgent matter in question. “Follow me, quickly.” Then, she turned on her heels and marched down the off-white corridor, me following anxiously behind her, Sophie tense in my arms.

“Looks like severe anaphylactic shock,” Dr. Elyaszadeh told one of the nurses. “Right?” She looked back at me. I nodded and she continued. “Right. Then she’ll need 0.15 milligrams of epinephrine, stat.”

The nurse ran from the room. I set Sophie down on the hospital bed, only then noticing how much her breathing had slowed, and how her neck was so swollen it almost resembled a grapefruit, and was about to cry out, when the nurse returned with the epinephrine. He handed it to Dr. Elyaszadeh, who injected it into her left arm. Sophie’s mouth opened, as if to let out a cry, only her throat would not allow the sound its passage. Her eyes were squeezed shut. I wiped my face, somehow unaware I had been crying.

After a few moments, Sophie’s breathing began to quicken, appearing to come to her more easily. There were still clear marks of where the rash had been, but much of it had abated, metamorphosing the sunburnt red into a sun-kissed pink. Gradually, Sophie’s eyes came open. She turned to face me.

“Mommy?”

I almost cried out but restrained myself. My heart was in my throat. “Sweetheart. See, everything’s going to be okay, just like I said.” I smiled at her, and she smiled back, and I was suddenly so overcome by emotion I had to turn away so she wouldn’t see.

“That’s right. Everything is going to be okay,” echoed Dr. Elyaszadeh, who was scribbling down something in her notes. “But, just to make sure, we’re gonna keep her here a little while… it’s rare, but sometimes flare-ups happen, minutes or even hours later. Best to be safe.”

I nodded. “Of course.” My daughter was safe, and this was the woman who had ensured that. I would wait a few minutes. I would wait all night if I had to, if that was what it took.

Then I remembered Lucas. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I tapped the screen to see whether it had actually died, and then, on discovering it had, asked the nurse, “Would you happen to have an Android charger?”

The nurse shook his head. “Afraid not, only iPhone. If you want, I can ask—”

“Attention, we’ve got a new patient with a traumatic brain surgery going in for an emergency surgery. All available OR nurses, please report to Room forty-three immediately,” rang from the intercom, Gretchen’s voice reverberating throughout the entire hospital.

“I’m sorry, I have to—” the nurse stammered nervously.

“Of course. Good luck,” I insisted.

He exhaled, relieved. “Thank you.” Then, without another word, he turned on his heels and sprinted out of the room.

I was about to get up and ask around for a charger, but as I began rising from my seat, Sophie’s head turned toward me. “Mommy, where are you going?” she asked.

“Honey, I was just going to step out to—”

“No, Mommy, don’t leave me!” she cried out, and my heart broke almost in two. I would have insisted under any other circumstances, but Sophie was obviously scared, and I was largely to blame. I carefully lowered myself back into the chair.

“I’ll stay right here, sweetheart,” I said, and she smiled at me. I could tell it was a smile that came from a sense of security, and not happiness, but regardless, its presence was a welcome shift from the face she’d made earlier that night as she’d knocked desperately on the bathroom door. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Mommy.”

I sat there and waited, and waited, and waited, until finally Dr. Elyaszadeh returned to the room, a smile on her face.

“Everything looks good!” she said, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Here, just sign this, and you’re both good to go.”

I took the paperwork and a pen from her. Not until I signed it did I notice the total cost for the hospital visit. I felt something in me sink so deep I doubted whether it might ever emerge, but stopped myself. Sophie was safe, and nobody could put a price on that.

“Is there…any sort of payment plan that can be worked out?” I asked Dr. Elyaszadeh, quietly, so as to keep Sophie from hearing me.

She put her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, the total is just for billing purposes. We’re not going to charge you.”

I gasped. “I—I don’t know what to say. Thank you… so, so much.”

“That’s a special girl you’ve got there. Everything’s going to be alright, okay?”

“Thank you—I’m sure she will.”

Dr. Elyaszadeh smiled. “I was talking about you, Natalie. Remember, you’ve got people here who care about you.” She smiled at me. “After all, you’re part of the family.”

I began crying, harder than before—at her generosity, of course, but mostly at that last part, thatfamily, which I had sought, fruitlessly, for so many years. I had my parents, of course. And my brother, sort of. And then there was Sophie, whom I hadn’t exactly chosen, and who hadn’t chosen to be born. But these were all relationships I had been born into, or into which others had been born; only blood and a sense of obligation united us. But this, this was different. I had joined a family, in a sense, that owed me nothing—a chosen family. And I was accepted—my daughter and I,wewere accepted—with open arms, treated with kindness and compassion, instead of being made to pay for honest mistakes.

“Thank you, really,” I finally managed; then, turning to Sophie I said, “Let’s head home now, sweetheart. We can watch a movie!”

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