Chapter 4 - The Ticking Clock
The next morning, we drove to the Cleveland clinic. The drive was silent, filled with the heavy anticipation of the medical test results.
Arthur underwent hours of grueling tests. Eleanor and I sat in the waiting room, separated by a decade of unspoken resentment.
"Emma," Eleanor said quietly, holding a paper cup of coffee. "I know you hate me. I know I didn't protect you when your father threw you out. I was weak. I was afraid of losing him, too. Can you ever forgive me?"
I looked at my mother. She had aged significantly. The sharp, judgmental woman from my teenage years was gone, replaced by a mother desperate for reconciliation.
"I don't hate you, Mom," I said honestly. "But I can't just forget. For ten years, I didn't know if I'd have rent money next month. I ate ramen so Leo could have fresh fruit. I studied for exams with a crying baby on my lap. Where were you when I needed my mother?"
Eleanor broke down, covering her face with her hands. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
Before I could say anything else, Dr. Vance walked out of the lab. His face was grim. My heart stopped.
"The results are in," Julian said. "Arthur is a match for the cellular therapy. His antibodies are incredibly strong. However... the tests also confirmed our worst fears about his heart. The extraction process will put an immense strain on his cardiovascular system. There is a fifty percent chance his heart will fail during the procedure."
"No," Eleanor gasped.
Arthur walked out behind Dr. Vance, buttoning his shirt. He had heard the prognosis. He looked remarkably calm.
"Fifty percent is a good gamble, Eleanor," Arthur said, walking over to us. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a softness I had never seen before. "Emma, I ruined our family ten years ago. Let me fix it now."
"Dad, no," I said, panic rising in my chest. "I didn't bring Leo back to Ohio to kill you. I brought him back to tell you the truth. We can find another way. There must be another donor!"
"There isn't time, Emma," Dr. Vance said gently. "Leo’s white blood cell count is already starting to fluctuate. If we wait to find another match, it might be too late for the boy."
Arthur took my hand. His palm was warm and dry. "Ten years ago, you made a choice to save a life, even when it cost you everything. Now it's my turn. Let me be a father, Emma. Just this once."
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I looked at my father, the man who had abandoned me, and realized that beneath his stubborn pride, he loved me. He had always loved me, but his pride had blinded him. Now, the mask was gone.
The procedure was scheduled for the following morning. We had less than twenty-four hours.
