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He barked out a laugh.
“Don’t worry, man. It’s nothing nefarious. But you see, Lila called…”
Chapter 4
Amy
Iwalkedoutofthe National Research Institute feeling even smaller than when I had arrived barely an hour ago. I was crushed. Dr. Stone’s words kept echoing in my brain.
“The institute doesn’t think your research is that pressing and we have our hands full at the moment. You, however, are someone we would like to have,” she had said, simply, as if she weren’t crushing my dreams.
I should be proud that they thought I was good enough to be invited to work at the institute, but I couldn't even care. That wasn't my goal. What I needed was funding or interest in continuing my research. I already quit at the laboratory where I used to work for the same reason, so I didn't see myself taking a job at the institute when there wasn't hope that they would follow up on my research. I would be stuck there for a long time.
Blinking against the sun, I pulled out my phone and fumbled around to call a rideshare. As I waited for the ride, I paced back and forth on the sidewalk, desperately trying to think of my next move.
Within a few minutes, my ride saved me from my brain and we headed off to the hospital. I leaned back on the headrest and closed my eyes against the many thoughts that were threatening to overwhelm me.
I was doing so much, and yet, everything appeared fruitless.
The car stopped in front of Saint Andrew Memorial Hospital, a complex of three multi-story buildings. They were all simple concrete buildings. Nothing special. It looked out of place in this part of the city where everything was high-style and modern.
I walked into the second building and checked in with reception before walking down a long, too familiar hallway. It was flanked on either side by rooms and I stopped at the last room, pushing the door open.
I was greeted by the brightest smile that instantly vanquished all my worries. This was what kept me going, what made the research and all the difficulties it brought worthwhile. As I stared at the little girl, draped in a white hospital robe and smiling at me through the pain she felt all over her body, especially from her uneven limbs, I knew I would go through everything again just to keep seeing that smile.
“Hey, Jordan!” I smiled right back at her, stepping up to her bedside and wrapping her in a careful hug. I was cautious not to squeeze too hard so I wouldn't cause her more pain. She was small for a fifteen-year-old child and it seemed she had gotten even smaller over the years.
“Amy!” she said in an excited whisper. Even after being stuck in a hospital for a good part of her life, her spirit never dampened. “I missed you.” She snuggled closer to me and I eased onto her side of the bed.
“I missed you, too. I'm sorry I took so long to come.”
She was the literal definition of a bright-eyed child. She had light brown eyes as large as an owl’s and a sunny smile that was to die for. Her plentiful black hair had been cut earlier that year, but it only highlighted her pretty, innocent features.
“Mom was here, but it wasn't the same as you.” She twirled the end of her blanket as she spoke. “She doesn't sing the song like you do.”
I smiled at her, taking her other hand. “I know. Your mom is great, but she doesn't measure up to me.” Jordan and I laughed. I enjoyed how we understood each other so easily. It was an understatement to say her mom, Jennifer, was great. I didn't have any words that could even come close to the impact she has had on my life.
“I'll tell Mom you said that.” Slowly, her smile turned sad. “She told me you have been so busy because of your research. For me.”
“Yes. I was at the National Research Institute earlier today to talk about my research.”
She held me tighter and put her head on my chest.
“Don't worry, Amy. It'll be fine. And if it isn't, I'll go to heaven and take care of you and Mom from there.”
Tears pooled in my eyes and a large ball lodged in my throat, painful and impossible to breathe or speak around. I kissed the top of Jordan’s head. She was such a sweet, brave girl. I was in awe of her and wanted nothing more in the world than to help her. No one deserved a miracle as much as Jordan.
Growing up, Jennifer had been my family. She was there for me when my own parents couldn’t bring themselves to be actual parents. I was just a high school student, lost and dealing with a truckload of baggage, and Jennifer was my rock. When Jordan came along, she was like my little sister. Jordan was one of the best things about life.
And then all of a sudden, she was dying.
We later learned that it was a congenital muscular dystrophy, a genetic mutation that messes with muscle mass and production. Since then, it was one hospital visit after another for Jordan and Jennifer.
“Please don’t cry,” Jordan whispered. “Sing me the song?”
I swiped away tears and barely made it through, whispering our special, Taylor Swift song, Lavender Haze. Somehow, it made us both feel just a little better. Maybe we just wanted to stay in the haze of our special times together. We giggled at the high notes as we squeaked along.
On the bus ride back home, I was a strange mix of invigorated and drained. I had been able to talk to the doctor before I left–both Jennifer and Jordan had given them permission to share updates with me–and while they were doing their best, it wasn’t going to be enough. They couldn’t really do much for Jordan other than keep her comfortable until it was finally time to…
