Page 11 of Runaway Queen

“Miss Rossi, please come in.”

Inside was a regular old doctor’s office, and yet, it had been the scene of some of the most terrifying events of my life. Considering the life I’d led, that was an impressive feat.

Chiara pulled me forward, and I sank into a chair, feeling numb.

I stared at the same poster over the doctor’s head that I’d looked at three years ago, when I’d first sat in this office, and my little, hard-won life had fallen apart.

“Good morning, Dr. Evans. We’re a little nervous today,” Chiara said, still gripping my hand hard.

Dr. Evans was a beautiful older woman. She had that motherly energy that was entirely comforting, even when delivering the hardest news.

It’s renal failure, I’m afraid. A transplant is the only long-term fix.

I shook the voices from the past from my head and tried to focus on the present. My mind often drifted, too burned out and traumatized from the way life had thrown me back and forth.

“I understand.” Dr. Evans smiled. “But I think today will be a better meeting than you expect.”

Hope, too huge to contain, blossomed in my chest.

“Better than we expect? You know what we expect, Doctor.”

She smiled again and nodded. “I know, so I don’t take that lightly. There’s good news and bad news.”

“We’ll take the bad news first, on the chin,” Chiara declared. She might sound breezier than me, but she had my hand in a death grip.

“The bad news is that you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me, and a lot more of this place.”

I couldn’t speak. Tears burned behind my eyes.

“The good news is that we have a potential donor. A donor has been found who might be a perfect match. Subject to tests and checks, of course. We’ll need to start the admittance procedure shortly to carry out the tests and observe for a few weeks before we make the final call.”

“Holy shit.” Chiara breathed into the silence that the doctor’s words left.

Dr. Evans laughed. “Holy shit indeed.”

“Say something,” Chiara said, and nudged me.

I opened my mouth, trying to scrape my scrambled brains together enough to say thank you or ask follow-up questions. Something, really, anything.

“You… I…” I trailed off, those damn tears burning behind my eyes. “Per questo, ti devo la vita.”

Chiara wrapped her arm around me. “For this, I owe you my life,” she translated for the doctor.

I never heard her answer.

The side door to the consultation room opened, and a tiny figure appeared, ushered in by the nurse.

“Mom! I didn’t cry at all this time!”

I turned and stared at the small boy who had changed my life completely. I still couldn’t speak, so I simply held my arms open.

Leo started forward, throwing himself into my embrace. I breathed in the smell of his hair, and the raging storm of emotion quieted for a moment.

He was small for his age. I held him tightly.

He was speaking to the doctor, but I couldn’t focus on what he was saying.

“Mom, why are you crying?” Leo asked, and leaned back to look up at me.

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