Page 60 of Roaring Fork Rockstar

“Yes. Given the urgency of her symptoms and the specialized care she needs, it’s the fastest way. They have a pediatric oncology team waiting.”

My stomach twisted with the acceptance that I could no longer put this off. “How soon?” I managed.

“The flight team should arrive within the hour. We’ll stabilize her here until then.”

I returned to Luna’s bedside, forcing myself to be calm and reassuring, even though I felt anything but. Holt looked up, reading the fear in my eyes instantly.

“Luna-bug, the nurses are going to give you medicine to help with the fever,” I explained, keeping my voice steady. “Then we’re going to take a special helicopter ride to another hospital in Denver.”

Luna’s eyes widened. “A real helicopter? Like on TV?”

“Just like on TV,” I confirmed, grateful for her excitement rather than fear.

Holt stepped away, phone in hand. I could hear fragments of his conversation with Buck—something about leaving his truck at the hospital.

“The emergency bag,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “Yeah, I gotta run and get it.” He paused. “Right. Thanks, man.”Another pause. “Yeah, I know about the forty-eight hours. I’ll figure it out.”

The mention of the forty-eight-hour stipulation limitation sent a chill through me. With everything happening so fast, I hadn’t considered what this meant for Holt. If he stayed with us in Denver beyond that time frame, what would he be risking?

Dr. Patel came in with a nurse who administered medication through Luna’s IV. Within minutes, her eyelids grew heavy.

“This will help her rest during the transfer,” he explained. “The flight team should be here at any moment.”

Holt approached with our bag.

“Listen, I know you can’t go with us?—”

His eyes bored into mine. “You’re not going without me. Understood?” When he pulled me into his arms, tears threatened, but I couldn’t cry now. Luna needed me to be strong, and if Holt was with us, I could be.

The flight crew arrived and transferred Luna to their stretcher. After a brief discussion about accommodations, the lead paramedic confirmed there was room for both Holt and me.

The journey took under an hour,but it felt equally endless and brief. Luna slept through it while I tried to process how quickly our world had changed.

By the time we touched down on the hospital’s helipad, the sun was setting over Denver. A team waited to receive us and whisked Luna directly to the pediatric oncology floor.

As they settled Luna into her room, I stepped into the hallway to call my father, my hands shaking as I dialed.

“Mija?”His voice answered, warm and familiar. “I was about to call you.”

“Dad,” I said, my voice breaking. “Luna’s sick. Really sick. We’re at Children’s Hospital in Denver.”

A beat of silence. “What happened?”

I explained everything—the emergency trip to Gunnison, the helicopter transfer, the oncology floor. “They haven’t confirmed anything yet, but they’re talking about cancer, Dad.”

“I’m leaving now,” he said without hesitation. “I’ll drive straight through.”

“Dad, it’s at least a five-hour drive?—”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he insisted. “Hold on,mija. I’m coming.”

When I returned to Luna’s room, a doctor was introducing herself to Holt. “I’m Dr. Robbins, the attending oncologist,” she said, extending her hand to me. “We need to run several tests, but based on the initial blood work, we want to do a bone marrow aspiration right away.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

She explained that she’d insert a needle near Luna’s hip and, essentially, extract a sample of her bone marrow.

“Will it hurt her?” My eyes filled with tears that I quickly brushed away.

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