I frown, glancing at Ava, then Baz for help. I was never warned of any allergies or anything. For all I knew, when I adopted Ava, she was a healthy child.
“No, not that I know of. She’s…we’ve just finalized the adoption, so this wasn’t—nothing was mentioned to me.”
The doctor nods, pursing his lips. “I’ll be right back. Dad, please keep the pressure on the wound. I’ll have a few nurses stop in to do some blood panels to be sure nothing else is going on here.”
As the doctor pushes the curtain back before leaving, I glance at Baz and find him looking at me. There’s a moment, a single moment, when things feel like they used to. But that moment is gone in the blink of an eye. He glances down at Ava and goes back to avoiding my gaze. He’s obviously as frustrated with me as I am with him.
We wait in silence, Ava starting to drift. Worry begins clawing at my gut when I see how much blood she’s losing.
This isn’t normal, right?
I cracked my head open once and had to have stitches, but I don’t remember losing this much blood. The towel is soaked in crimson. It looks like someone dipped it into a can of red paint. It’s colored her perfect blond hair a matted red and the patient bed is soaked with it.
“Something’s wrong,” I whisper, as I look down at her. I feel it. Baz glances up at me, and by the look in his eyes, I can tell he knows it, too. This isn’t right. She shouldn’t be bleeding this much.
“Go find a doctor, a nurse, fucking someone.”
I push off the chair, before he manages to finish his sentence. I call out into the hall, probably rousing other ER patients, but I don’t care. My daughter is losing too much blood. A nurse carrying a handful of stuff skids to a halt at my panicked look.
“My daughter, she’s bleeding everywhere. There’s something wrong.”
She nods and calls back over her shoulder. “Martinez! I need help.”
We hurry back to Ava, and I almost burst into tears at the fearful expression on Baz’s face. The nurses urge us back, one taking over to apply pressure, the other twisting Ava, so they can take her vitals. It’s a mass of urgency. One nurse calls out for the doctor who comes speed walking in. The doctor looks at the nurses and the blood, and he starts giving out orders.
“Prep an OR room. For now, give her a blood-clotting agent. I don’t want to risk blood panels if she’s already losing this much blood. She might need a transfusion,” he rattles off to one of the head nurses, who’s nodding and jotting things down like his entire life depends on it. The doctor speeds off, getting ready to prep for whatever, and the nurses start wheeling Ava off. I shoot to my feet, unsteadily, tears filling my eyes. Fear claws at my chest.
“What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
“We’re taking Ava into the OR to better stop the blood flow. Mom, do you know Ava’s blood type? In case a blood infusion is needed. We just want to make sure she hasn’t lost too much. The doctor is giving her a clotting agent to help stop some of the blood flow.”
I shake my head, feeling panicked. “No, I don’t know. I think it says it somewhere in her medical file.”
The nurse nods, patting me on the arm, trying to get me to remain calm. “I’ll have a nurse look through her records. In the meantime, would one of you mind giving blood? In case either of you are matches?”
“Yes, of course,” Baz and I agree at the same time.
I’m antsy the entire time I give blood. Usually the act itself makes me nauseous, but right this second, all I can seem to worry about is Ava. All I want to do is be by her side. I pace the hall, just outside where she is. I continuously rake my hands through my hair, praying to anyone above that she’ll be okay. Kids don’t get taken to the OR just for a cracked head. I’m not ready to lose her. I can’t lose her.
“Mackenzie.” I jump in surprise at the warmth of Baz’s hand on my shoulder. “Let’s sit down. Don’t wear yourself out.”
The dam I’ve been holding back suddenly breaks as I stare up at him. “This is my fault. I should’ve been watching her. Now look at her,” I hiss, pointing at the closed doors. “All my life, I’ve never been able to do anything right. How could I possibly think this was the one thing I’d get right? Taking care of a child? I’m in way over my head. She’s going to—”
Baz grasps my shoulders, throttling some sense into me. “She’s going to be just fine. They’re taking care of her. You didn’t know this would happen.”
“And that’s the problem,” I choke. “I should’ve stopped it from happening. Instead, I was with you. I was so focused on…all the shit that doesn’t even matter anymore, on Vincent, on the rest of the guys, Madison, my parents. I wasn’t looking out for the one person who needed me.”
Baz’s features soften. “Sit down, Mackenzie. You can’t control the world. Accidents happen. Just sit and breathe.”
I do as he says. I plop down in the chair and stare at the closed door with tears trailing down my cheeks.
“Ms. Wright, I have some good news, and I’m afraid some bad news.”
I jump to my feet and sway from the exertion, but Baz is there. He takes my hand, giving a firm squeeze, letting me know he isn’t going anywhere. “Okay, what’s the bad?”
“Ava’s lost a lot of blood. The doctor is certain she has a bleeding disorder, but until we do more tests, it could be any number of things. She’s going to need a transfusion since she wasn’t administered a blood-clotting agent soon enough.”
I slap a hand over my mouth, trying to hold back the sob. The nurse must notice my impending hysterics, so she cuts to the next set of news.
“The good news is, you are an exact blood match, Mom.”
She prattles on about something else, but that little tidbit gives me pause. “Wait.” I shake my head. “How is that possible?”
“Well, you’re her mother, so it’s not surprising—”
“I’m not her biological mother. Ava is adopted,” I cut her off, my brows tugging down.
The nurse cocks her head to the side, looking at me like I’m crazy. “Ms. Wright, you are an exact match. The blood samples. The only way that is possible is if you and Ava are related.” She glances at Baz quickly, as if realizing her mistake. “If you’d like to speak in private, I’m happy to do that and explain further.”
I feel Baz stiffen beside me. She thinks I’m hiding something from him? What the hell is going on?
“No, I don’t need to speak in private. He can hear this. I just need…I need you to explain. This doesn’t make any sense. There’s no way I can be related to Ava. I adopted her. I have no immediate family with children.”
“The DNA is a match, Ms. Wright. Unless you have a twin that birthed a child, I have no other logical explanation.”
My legs give out.
Baz’s strong hold keeps me upright as I process her words.
“Unless you have a twin that birthed a child.”
“Unless you have a twin that birthed a child.”
That can’t be right.
No. There is no way Madison had a baby. There is no way in hell that could’ve happened.