“Sorry for the wait. I’m Dr. Evelyn Peters, and I’ll be leading your procedure.”
She’s in her early fifties, dark brown skin, sharp eyes that take everything in. Silver streaks run through her neatly pulled-back hair, and she carries herself like someone used to making impossible decisions. Nurse Lindsey follows, gripping my chart like a lifeline, eyes darting to Cast before quickly looking away.
“You must be Willow,” Dr. Peters says before turning to Cast.
“Cast, Willow’s boyfriend.” His grip is firm when they shake hands, and I swear he enjoys saying that.
Dr. Peters nods. “I’m glad she has a strong support system. Today, we’ll go over what to expect.”
“Starting with the success rate,” Cast cuts in. “Real numbers.”
Dr. Peters doesn’t blink. “The ArtCore-9 has been implanted in five patients. All five survived. Four resumed normal lives. One required additional procedures to fine-tune the rhythm.”
“And Willow will be number six.”
“Yes,” she confirms. “And the youngest.”
Cast’s jaw tightens. “That increases the risk.”
“Cast, please,” I whisper, squeezing his arm.
Dr. Peters brings up a 3D model of the ArtCore-9, a sleek titanium structure with soft blue pulses. “This isn’t just a pump—it’s biomechanical. The synthetic lattice inside will gradually be colonized by your own cells. Over time, 40% of the heart will become living tissue.”
My breath catches. “Part machine, part me.”
“Exactly.”
Cast stays rigid. “And if her body rejects it?”
“It’s coated with proteins from Willow’s own stem cells. Her body will recognize it.”
I stare at the rotating image, fascinated. “And the procedure itself?”
Dr. Peters folds her hands. “You’ll be under for about eight hours. We’ll perform a sternotomy?—”
“They’ll cut through my breastbone,” I interject. “Standard for heart surgery.”
Cast’s tension is palpable, but Dr. Peters continues. “Once your heart is removed, the ArtCore-9 is attached with a more efficient connection system than traditional transplants.”
“Will I feel different?”
“Most patients don’t. It adjusts just like a natural heart.”
“There’s also an app,” Nurse Lindsey chimes in. “To monitor functions like heart rate and battery levels.”
Cast’s head snaps up. “Battery?”
“It’s kinetic—charged by movement. A backup battery lasts seven days at rest.”
“And if it malfunctions?”
“Redundant systems ensure that won’t happen,” Dr. Peters reassures. “And you’ll get alerts before anything becomes critical.”
Cast is still tense, but I press on. “Recovery time?”
“ICU for 48-72 hours, a hospital stay of about a week. Most patients resume light activity in a month, full activity in three.”
Cast’s gaze sharpens. “Define full activity.”