Page 96 of Healed Hearts

“It’s nice to meet you too.”Oh, tell her your name, dumbass. “I’m Julian.”

She nods, turning her attention to Wren. “And who’s this adorable baby girl?”

Wren tucks her head into my neck. But to my surprise, she answers. “I’m Wren.”

Lydia smiles at her. This is such a strange family. All happy and smiley and kind of perfect. No wonder Beck is so well-adjusted. Even before my parents stopped talking to me, they were miserable bastards. “Hey Wren, I’m Lydia. I’m Beck’s mom. I’m going to be taking care of you today, okay?”

Wren nods against me. “Unka Beck?”

Lydia’s eyes light up. But before she can respond, Beck cuts in. “Hell yeah, Uncle Beck.”

Holden whacks his arm again. “Language, Beckett.”

Beck’s eyes dart to mine. “Oh, man. I’m so sorry.”

I chuckle. “It’s fine.”

Lydia takes a step back. “Okay guys, let’s go get this little one in a room.”

We all follow her down the hall and into a room. I sit Wren down on the hospital bed, trying not to picture her hooked up to a million machines like her mom was. The thought of something bad being wrong almost cripples me. Holden’s hand landing on my back instantly calms me. “She’s going to be okay.”

“I hope so.”

It doesn’t take long before Dr. Mays is coming into the room. He looks around in what looks like irritation at the large amount of us before turning to me. “We got some concerning results.”

My stomach turns, nausea creeping in. Holden slides his hand into mine, and Beck comes to stand on my other side, close enough that his arm is brushing me. Lydia comes across the room and sits on the bed beside Wren, talking to her softly.

“Okay,” I say, swallowing hard.

Dr. Mays opens Wren’s chart, which I didn’t notice until now. “Prelim testing is showing no cancer.” My knees almost give out on me, the relief so fucking sweet that I almost can’t hold my own weight up.

“Okay, that’s good,” Holden says when it becomes clear I’m not going to be able to talk.

Dr. Mays frowns at him. “It’s not all good news, I’m afraid. We have a presumptive diagnosis of aplastic anemia. We’ll need a few more days to verify with one hundred percent certainty.”

I swallow hard. “Okay, um, what does that mean?”

Holden gives my hand a gentle squeeze, while Beck leans further into me.

Dr. Mays clears his throat. “It means that Wren’s body is not producing enough blood cells. The low white count is the cause of her low respirations and her tiredness. And low platelets are responsible for her bruising.”

Holden chuckles, but it lacks humor. “Low folate.”

Dr. Mays turns a glare on him. I feel Beck tense beside me, and I find myself tensing too, halfway convinced he’s about to go full on Rocky again if this asshole says the wrong thing to Holden. He may be able to skirt the consequences of what happened over the weekend, but I’m not sure his dad can help him keep his job if he punches a co-worker. “Surely you know we don’t always get it right on the first try,” Doctor Asshole says.

I turn to Holden in time to see him bare his teeth. “We also don’t dismiss patient concerns and throw our hands up when our initial diagnosis doesn’t make sense.”

I love when he gets like this. With people other than me, of course. But right now, I need answers. “Okay, so what can we do?”

Holden answers for him, sadness tinting his words. “A bone marrow transplant.”

Oh. So that’s better than chemo, right? Dr. Mays talks again. “We can start with medication to stimulate her blood cell production. We will need to monitor her levels. We can also do blood transfusions as the need arises.”

I take that in. “Okay, and that will cure it?”

Dr. Mays shakes his head. “No, but it will manage the symptoms. The only thing that will cure her is a marrow transplant. Once we get a confirmed diagnosis, I can add her to the donor registry. Do you have any questions?” I shake my head. I don’t. Not for him, anyway. Anything I want to know, I’ll talk to Holden or Beck about. I trust them infinitely more than this dickhead. “Okay, I’ll get scripts sent to the pharmacy, andyou can pick them up. I’ll call as soon as we have confirmation.” With that, he turns and strides from the room.

Holden growls. “D-I-C-K.”

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