down and pulled out the small black unit.
It was an emergency message from Stephen Penn. Nine-one-one. The code for call immediately.
“Oh, Jesus,” he said. “It’s Mike.”
Rosa shoved her keys at him. “Take my car. It is right there.”
He snatched the keys. “My car’s in the office lot. The keys are in the visor. Get Bret and Jacey and get to the hospital. This could be—”
“We’ll be right behind you.”
“Cardiac arrest.”
Liam slumped in his chair. He barely had the strength to lift his chin.
Stephen didn’t look away. “I don’t know what to tell you, Liam. Her heart just stopped. We got it going again in no time, but it could be an indicator. Her body may be giving out. I think … I think it might be time to prepare yourself and the kids for the end.”
The End. He wished he’d never said that to a patient of his, but he knew that he had.
Stephen sighed. “It looked like she was getting better there for a few days.”
Liam knew that Stephen was thinking of his own wife, Margaret, who was probably at home right now making snowmen with the kids. He could see it in his friend’s eyes, the terrible understanding of what it would mean to lose the woman you loved. “How do you tell a nine-year-old that it’s time to say good-bye to Mommy? And what if you don’t tell him—how in God’s name do you tell him tomorrow that it’s too late to say anything?”
“Jesus, Lee.” Stephen leaned forward, planted his forearms on the desk.
Liam could see that Stephen was searching for words that would honestly give comfort, rather than the standard platitudes. He saw, too, when Steve came up empty. Of course he would. This was a time for faith, for God and religion; science was hopelessly inadequate.
Before Stephen could say anything, Liam got to his feet and made his way out of the office.
The corridor was too bright; light stung his glazed eyes. In the waiting room, Jacey stood at the window with Mark beside her. Rosa sat perched on the very edge of the sofa. Bret—still in his skating coat and Gore-Tex bib overalls—stood pressed against the wall by the television. His little cheeks were candy-apple red. Water dripped from the frozen shelf of his bangs, plopping onto his upturned nose.
When Jacey saw Liam, she let go of Mark’s hand and took a cautious step toward him. “Daddy?”
He couldn’t tell them. Not here at least, not beneath these cold strips of fluorescent lighting. He’d tell the kids the truth tomorrow. Maybe he would find a miracle between now and then. And if Mikaela didn’t make it through the night … he’d live with his decision. It would become another of the many choices that formed the boundary of his soul.
He didn’t look at Rosa as he spoke. “She’s okay. Mom’s okay. She had a little trouble with her heart, is all. It skipped a few beats, but everything is okay now.”
“Can I see her?” Jacey asked.
“Of course, but only for a minute or two. Ironically, she needs her rest.”
Jacey nodded and headed for the door. As she passed Liam, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. She stopped and turned to him.
“She doesn’t look too good, sweetie.”
Jacey paled. “Okay, Dad. I-I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He forced a smile and let her go. What else could he do? She was old enough to find her own way along this desperate path.
Bret looked up at him. A drop of water snaked down his cheek and landed on his navy ski coat. His mouth trembled uncertainly and tears puddled in his eyes. “Is she awake?”
Liam touched his son’s cold, cold cheek. “No, honey, she’s not.” He fought the urge to say not yet; he couldn’t throw out hope as if it were penny candy. Not anymore.
Bret backed into the wall. “I don’t wanna see her right now. Not … like that.”
Liam didn’t know what to do.
“Hey, Bretster,” Mark said, moving toward them. “I promised to get you an orange soda and some Gummi Bears. How about now?”
Bret’s face broke into a relieved smile. “That’d be great. Can I, Dad?”
Liam felt like a coward for taking the easy road, but he nodded. There was no use pretending he wasn’t relieved. He got to his feet, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a couple of dollar bills. “Here you go, but don’t be too long. We’ve got to get home.”
Bret snagged the money and fisted it. “’Kay.”