He grasps the hem of the curtain, his restraint evident in his whitening knuckles. “Suit yourself. I was trying to make this easier for you.” He tosses a file on the counter beside me. “Liam lucked out. The episode on Friday, the cough.”
I tilt my head to the side, trying to make sense of what he means.
“The tumors are compressing his lungs,” he pinches his eyes closed, scooting his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “He can’t breathe right. That’s why he passed out. It’s looking like a fluid overload.”
“I don’t understand.” Brighton said Kline would take things too far, but I never figured it would be right out of the gate.
“Dr. Fields wasn’t following protocol. I went through his chart after you two left my office this morning. The lung tumors have been there for a while. Liam’s a week or two behind where he should be. She’s been irresponsible, and I don’t know why Liam’s best interest isn’t at the forefront of her mind.”
Liam goes stalk-still. It’s obvious he’s listening in, but I don’t want to give him away.
“What do you mean they’ve been there? There’s more?” I process what he’s implying at a snail’s pace, reminding myself that this is what she was talking about. There’s no way this information is accurate.
“Unfortunately. I’m embarrassed by the care Liam has received. I apologize for the oversight and take full responsibility for this. Dr. Fields wasn’t ready to take on another ES case, but she reassured me she could handle it. I shouldn’t have allowed the risk.”
He has to be lying. There’s no way she would make that sort of mistake. The idea of the gravity of her not looking out for Liam’s best interest crushes me. I chose her. We chose her. I know I’m not supposed to believe it, but my mind is telling me one thing while my heart is telling me something else. I hate to admit it, but he’s convincing.
He places his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve had a rough couple of weeks. You could use a break from this place. Let’s go for a walk. He’ll be here when you get back.”
“I’m really not comfortable.” My mind screams at me not to listen. To somehow make an excuse why I won’t leave his side, but Kline isn’t leaving me much room to argue.
“He’s in excellent hands.”
“Dax?” Liam pretends to rouse, blinking his eyes as he yawns and pushes the button on the arm of the chair to raise it so he’s upright.
I hurry to his side and take his hand. He squeezes. I’m afraid we’re trying too hard when I see the suspicion crease across Kline’s face.
He steps around Liam’s seat and grabs the rolling chair, sliding it to me.
“Fine, we’ll do this your way,” he says, waving at someone to enter the room. “We need to do a blood draw for genetic markers rather than an HLA test. I’m sure Dr. Fields mentioned it.”
“I did the swab. Twice.”
He frowns, flipping through Liam’s chart. “Then you know what it’s for?”
I nod.
“Did she also tell you the initial results were inconclusive?” he asks as he wipes away a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. His eyes dart to my face and then to Liam’s before he adds, “and that you’re not a match?”
“I got an email saying it was . . .” There’s no way I heard him right. My mind is playing tricks on me. “Not a match for what?”
“Your DNA.”
Liam stiffens, his grip on my hand tightening. I slowly lower myself onto the chair as Kline takes the file from the counter and sets it in front of me on the reclined part of Liam’s chair.
“What’s this?” I scan through the pages, the words blurring as I stop at the last paragraph.
“That,” Kline points to the labs at the bottom of the second page, “is a problem.”
“Is this the HLA test?” I flip between the sheets of paper, my eyes scanning over the old results on our DNA.
Kline nods.
“But it was inconclusive.”
“I thought it got misplaced or lost, but it wasn’t.” He leans against the counter across from us, irritation seeping out of him. “But both swabs are there with the same outcome.”
“That’s what she meant,” I whisper to myself. My gaze flits to his before I stare at the file. I run a thumb across the yellow sticker label with a B and the blue sticker with the D.