Page 142 of Promise Me Nothing
I can feel Hannah bristling next to me, but I can’t focus on her right now.
“Yes, but the likelihood of Hannah’s HLA matching Ivy’s is significantly lowered because they’re not full siblings. We can still do the blood work to see if she’s a match, but the likelihood has dropped from twenty-five percent to closer to five percent that she’ll be a person who can donate.”
A long, painful breath leaves my chest and I slump back in my seat. I can feel the ripple going through the room. My mom’s back goes rigid. Ben’s looking out the window. Hannah looks on the verge of tears.
Ivy looks around confused, seeming to have only understood part of the information.
Don’t worry,I say.Even if Hannah isn’t a match, we’ll keep looking for one.
Then I lock eyes with Hannah over Ivy’s head. I’m so saddened by this news, and it’s taking everything inside of me to stay calm for my sister so that I don’t flip a table or storm out.
It feels like this means I did all of this for nothing. Hannah coming here and getting hurt, raising the hopes of my entire family… it’s all a wash.
Hannah stands to leave and go get her blood work done, but drops in front of Ivy and squeezes her hands.
Even if they say our bone marrow doesn’t match, I’m still so glad I get to be your sister.
Ivy slides her hands around Hannah’s neck, and the two embrace. It’s an emotional moment. Something beautiful between the two of them that not even sickness can touch.
Hannah leaves to get her blood drawn, Ivy going with her for her own follow up tests, and I feel like the only light left in all of this is about to get extinguished.
“I’m sorry for the confusion,” Dr. Lyons says, speaking to my mom and I, since Ben still looks checked out as he stares out the window. “But we will hope for the best with Hannah, and continue searching for a matching donor in the meantime.”
Dr. Lyons asks more questions that my mom and I answer, about Ivy’s energy levels, whether or not she’s caught any colds since our last visit, but it’s all a blur. And before I know it, we’ve collected Ivy from the lab and we’re headed out to the front to go home.
“You guys go on,” I say, tucking my hands in my pockets and slowing my walk as we reach the front doors. “I don’t want to leave Hannah in there by herself.”
Ben gives me a half-hearted smile and Ivy throws herself into a big hug. My mom barely looks at me, just shoving her car keys in Ben’s hand and heading out of the automatic doors that lead to the parking lot.
I turn back and return to the lab, taking a seat in the little waiting area.
There’s a part of me that wonders if the best thing I could do would be to head off to London. Just get the hell out of here and do my best to help from afar.
Even the idea of that makes my skin crawl. The old Wyatt would have done that. Would have run off and avoided and fled. He really was a coward, trying to avoid the difficulties and emotions and hard jabs that life throws out when you least expect it.
But the new me can’t do it.
Funny. I didn’t even realize therewasa new me.
I’m still trying to decide if I like who I am right now.
When the doors open and Hannah appears, she looks exhausted, and I can tell she’s been crying.
But her walls come up the minute she sees me. Her shoulders go back and she lifts her jaw. Then she walks right past me and outside.
I follow.
“Go away, Wyatt. I’m only here for Ivy.”
“I know, I just… didn’t want you to be alone in there.”
She spins around, looking at the handful of people scattered outside the hospital.
“Where’s Ivy?”
“They went home.”
She crosses her arms.
