Chapter 6 - Guarded Walls
The medical report lay flat on the small wooden desk in the private consult room.
"Lucas is a sixty-percent match," Dr. Chen explained, pointing to the genetic markers on the printout. "He carries one mutated copy of the PRF1 gene, which means he is a carrier, but he will not develop the disease himself. However, using his marrow carries a significant risk of chronic graft-versus-host complications for Samuel."
My chest seized. "And Noah?"
Dr. Chen looked directly at Dominic, then at me. A rare, genuine smile broke through her tired features. "Noah is a ten-out-of-ten HLA match. A complete, perfect phenotypic and genotypic match. Furthermore, he did not inherit the mutated PRF1 allele from either of you. He received the healthy maternal and paternal sequences."
I let out a sound that was half-sob, half-scream, burying my face in my hands. Dominic moved instantly. His large arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me firmly against his chest. For the first time in three years, I didn't pull away. I gripped the fabric of his shirt, weeping into his collarbone while his broad hand pressed against the back of my head, holding me together as the sheer, crushing weight of three weeks of terror finally released its grip.
"He's going to live," Dominic whispered into my hair, his own voice thick with tears. "Maya. Our boy is going to live."
"We can schedule the bone marrow harvest from Noah for Thursday morning," Dr. Chen said, her voice full of professional warmth. "It’s a straightforward procedure under general anesthesia. We take marrow from the iliac crest of his hip. He will be sore for a few days, but he will bounce back quickly. Samuel will undergo a preparatory conditioning regimen starting tomorrow night."
"Do whatever is necessary," Dominic said, his arm remaining locked around my waist. "Spare no expense. If you need specialists flown in from Johns Hopkins or Zurich, Giancarlo will have my jet in the air within the hour."
"We have everything we need right here, Dominic," she said gently. "Now, both of you need to rest. We have security stationed outside, and the boys are sound asleep."
Dr. Chen left us alone in the quiet office.
The adrenaline that had sustained me for eighteen hours evaporated entirely. My knees trembled, and if Dominic hadn't been holding me, I would have collapsed onto the linoleum.
"Come," he said softly.
He guided me back into the private suite. Lucas and Noah were still dead to the world, sprawled across the main bed. On the opposite side of the suite, a pull-out sleeper sofa had been made up with crisp hospital linens.
"Lie down," Dominic ordered gently.
"I need to be with Sam—"
"Sam is under heavy sedation, Maya. The ICU nurse is sitting three feet from his bed. You haven't slept in days. Look at your hands."
They were shaking violently.
I sat on the edge of the sleeper sofa and kicked off my soaked, ruined sneakers. My white blouse was stained with rain, dirt, and coffee. I felt disgusting, vulnerable, and completely raw.
Dominic walked into the adjoining bathroom and returned with a damp, warm towel. He knelt before me, just as he had done with our sons, and took my cold feet into his hands. Gently, methodically, he wiped the street grime and dried rain from my skin.
"Dominic, don't," I whispered, pulling back slightly. "You don't have to do this."
"I should have been doing this for the last three years," he said, not letting go. His touch was warm, steady, reverent. "I should have been the one working double shifts so you didn't have to ruin your hands. I should have been the one holding Sam when his fever spiked."
"You didn't know."
"I should have known," he snarled at himself, his voice dropping into self-reproach. "A man who cannot protect his own family from his own father has no right to call himself powerful. I was blind, Maya. Arrogant and blind."
He finished cleaning my feet, then stood and draped a heavy wool blanket over my shoulders. He reached to unbutton his collar, looking toward the armchair in the corner.
"Where are you going?" I asked, the words slipping out before my defenses could stop them.
Dominic paused, his dark eyes searching mine in the dim amber light of the bedside lamp. "I'm staying in that chair. I won't cross your boundaries, Maya. You brought my sons back from the dead today. That doesn't mean you owe me your forgiveness."
I looked at the wide sleeper sofa. It was empty. The room was cold, despite the heating unit humming beneath the window.
"The chair is too small for you," I said quietly, turning my back to him as I slipped beneath the covers. "Just... lie down. Don't talk. Don't touch me. Just stay."
There was a long pause. Then, the mattress dipped under his immense weight.
May you like
He lay on top of the sheets, facing away from me, his back a solid wall of heat only inches from mine. For the first time in thirty-six months, the horrific, gnawing terror in my gut quieted. I closed my eyes, and within seconds, the blackness took me.
***
