“We’re ready to administer anesthesia. I just need your authorization here.”
In an ideal scenario, Ernest would have provided the signature, but in his absence, Eric and Hadley, both legally adopted into the Flynn family, had to act.
“I’ll sign,” Eric said immediately, taking the clipboard from the doctor’s hand and signing the form.
“Please, take care of her.”
“Absolutely,” the doctor replied with a nod before hurrying back to the operating area.
As the door shut, a heavy silence settled over the hallway. Eric glanced at Hadley, who stood with her hands clasped tightly, her eyes fixed on the closed door.
Her gown slipped slightly, exposing a delicate shoulder and the sharp lines of her collarbone against her pale skin. Noticing this, Eric removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders.
“The air conditioning is intense here. Stay warm,” he said, anticipating she might protest.
But Hadley barely noticed, her focus consumed by worry. She clutched the jacket instinctively, her gaze unwavering, and whispered, “Nyla, you have to be okay.”
Eric paused, struck by the sight of her reddened eyes and tear-dampened lashes. Was she crying? For Nyla, who wasn’t even her biological grandmother?
He wondered if her worry stemmed from her deep affection for Ernest. Eric quietly reflected that Hadley’s gentle nature led her to shed tears for her “boyfriend’s family.”
His eyes drifted to her stiletto heels, noting how uncomfortable she must be standing in them.
“Why don’t you sit?” he suggested gently.
Hadley didn’t respond, remaining rooted in place. With a quiet sigh, Eric chose to stay by her side in silent support.
“God, please look after her,” Hadley murmured, her hands folded in prayer.
Two years earlier, when Nyla’s heart condition had worsened and urgent surgery was required, she had arranged for Hadley to return from Blathe so she could see her at least one last time if she didn’t make it. After the surgery, Nyla’s health had stabilized, but in recent months she had begun to decline.
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The doctors had warned that another operation wasn’t viable; medication was her only option now. If her condition held steady, she might have two to three more years; if it worsened, perhaps only one. The thought made Hadley’s heart sink.
Soon, the door to the treatment room opened and the doctor stepped out. Hadley rushed forward, her voice trembling.
“How is she?”
Eric frowned slightly at her reaction. Her bond with Nyla seemed profoundly genuine.
“The obstruction has been cleared,” the doctor explained.
“Her vitals are stable, but she’s still under anesthesia and unconscious.”
“Can I see her?” Hadley asked, already trying to look past the doctor into the room.
“Just for a brief moment,” the doctor allowed.
“She’s fragile and needs rest. Don’t take too long.”
“Thank you.”
With the doctor’s approval, Hadley quickly entered the room, slipping off her high heels at the door and proceeding barefoot. Was she worried about disturbing Nyla? Eric, trailing behind, was struck by her thoughtfulness.
“Nyla,” Hadley whispered, taking Nyla’s hand and pressing her forehead gently against it.
.
.
.