Page 118 of Líadan's Code

“Well?” he drawls, his lips already curling into a smile. “What are the results?”

“As usual, you’re right,” I admit, showing him the results.

“Good,” he grunts, releasing a small sigh. “What do you want to do for obstetrician visits?”

“Do you have anyone who you recommend?” I ask tentatively. “I don’t know what I’m doing in the next five minutes, much less nine months down the road, but I want to make sure I have someone I trust in my corner.”

“As do I,” he says. “There are a lot of crooked and stupid doctors out there who don’t have a clue about how to speak to their patients. At the same time, you aren’t someone who needs kid gloves.”

Nodding, I agree, because he’s right. I just want someone who won’t be a dick to me as I navigate through this new adventure. And knowing my life, it will be one.

“Who do you recommend, doctor?” Jordan asks, his hand on the small of my back.

“Doctor Halifax,” he says. “She works with high risk patients, and I’m not saying that your pregnancy will be difficult, but I want someone who can handle your history without being judgemental.”

“Okay, where is she located?” I ask, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Chicago,” Dr. Kurtz says, looking at me funny. “You don’t think I’d make that ridiculous speech and send you across the country, do you? You know better than that, girlie.”

“I do,” I apologize. “I feel as if something bad is about to happen. I’m trying to get used to this.”

“I understand,” he says with a nod. “I would like to take a bit of blood, and then you can go about your day. I’ll set up your appointment for you so you don’t have to wait forever.”

“Just like that?” Brendan asks, awed.

“Yes,” he says. “I have watched you bloom into this incredible woman who is making a difference. Don’t think that I haven’t heard about the chaos you’ve been creating the last couple of days.”

“I’m sure you have,” I say with a wince. “I’ve been trying to keep you out of it.”

“Meh, my life is boring at the moment,” he says, with a wave of his hand. “You’re doing important work. If one of the people you’re helping needs medical attention, I’ll come. Now, let’s chat a bit while I take this blood. Starting with the vomiting you’re experiencing…”

Sitting, I listen with rapt attention as he gives me tricks and tips to help the nausea that crept up on me this morning. Low blood sugar will trigger it for many pregnant women, so eating saltine crackers will help if I eat a few before I go to bed and when I wake up.

As he takes blood to run his tests, I place my hand on my stomach, my heart pounding but in a good way.

Hello, little one. I’m your mommy.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Brendan

Eight days later

There were twenty people who didn’t make it from the families’ menageries. Five died due to lack of care in the short time that their owners were gone, ten attacked the people who came to rescue them, and the other five begged to be killed.

We aren’t the type to argue when someone asks for that, because there’s usually a good reason for it.

None of these people can go back and have normal lives. There’s trauma clear as day in their demeanors and faces, and Lía straightens her back as she gazes out at them. It took eight days to clear out everyone, including the people that were overseas.

We worked as quickly as possible, knowing we didn’t know what everyone involved is going through.

While we can guess that they’re scared and anxious, we aren’t in their shoes.

“Hello, everyone,” she says, standing in front of them all in a large room. There are translators as needed to help, ensuring Lía only needs to say things once. Her nausea comes and goes still, but all the tests show that the baby is snug and happy inside her or his mama.

“Some of you have traveled a long way to get to Chicago, and I want to offer you a chance to start over,” Líadan says. “I can’t say things will ever be completely normal, because I doubt they will be. Your experiences color the whole of your life from here on out. Before you ask me how a mafia princess would ever know anything about what happened to you all, I understand in a small part. My trauma was one incredibly terrible night, yet the experience was enough for me to have some small understanding of it all.”

“Why are we here?” A beautiful woman with olive skin and curly brown hair asks. She is absolutely gorgeous, and angry. “Our lives were terrible for many of us, but it was predictable. Now what?”

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