A man came in wearing a doctor’s white coat with a stethoscope hung around his neck. He leaned in and examined Cian’s wound with Dr. Estrada.
“O’Callaghan,” he said. “I was hoping the last time was the last time.”
Cian grunted.
The man looked at me. “We have a new member of the cheering squad.”
Fiona showed him her teeth. Keenan shook his head.
“My wife,” Cian barely got out.
“Maeve,” Dr. Estrada said when the man’s eyes almost bugged out and he seemed too shocked to speak.
“Mrs. O’Callaghan.” The man finally got out. “I’m Dr. Higgins, Dr. Estrada’s husband.”
I looked at Fiona and she rolled her eyes at me like I was ridiculous. Maybe I was. Nothing seemed real, and after a squirt of blood shot out of my husband’s wound, my eyes mimicked Fiona’s, the room spun, and I lost control of it as I fell into a black whole.
Chapter34
Cian Cillian
“Cillian! Wake up! Cillian!”
My eyes felt heavy, but I forced them open. Mam was sittin’ on the edge of my bed, shakin’ me awake. She narrowed her eyes at me, and just to be sure I didn’t fall back asleep, she tickled my side. She always did. I wanted to squirm, but I was too old to be tickled, so I kept still.
Even in the darkness, I could tell she was makin’ a fierce face at me. “Just makin’ sure you’re up, my lad.”
“What time is it?” I yawned.
“Too late for growin’ lads to be up, but…watch yer eyes.” Her red hair made a curtain as she leaned forward and turned on the bedside lamp. The gold in it sparked, even in the dim light.
I blinked against the sudden brightness. She was all lit up in it, like she was bathin’ in it. Da said she’d been lit up ever since she found out I was goin’ to have a brother or sister. I understood what he’d meant in that moment.
She set a warm hand on my arm. The other was behind her back. “I have somethin’ to show you, Cillian.” She said it all excited like.
Oh, man, if she came at me with a chocolate bar or somethin’, I was goin’ to have to brush my teeth again. It would be worth it, though. She wielded a picture instead. It wasn’t a very good one. It was black and white and fuzzy.
“What’s that?” I asked. “A picture of our TV when it’s on the fritz?”
On the fritz.It was an expression Da used sometimes when somethin’ was broken around the apartment. I just liked sayin’ fritz. It fizzled on the tongue or somethin’, like those candies we traded each other for in a school inBaw-sten.
Mam threw her head back and laughed. It was breathy, like she didn’t want to disturb somethin’. It seemed to echo in the small apartment even though it was a quiet chuckle. We were probably alone. Da out workin’ late again.
“Look harder, Cillian.”
I squinted but didn’t really see anythin’. It had Mam’s name and date of birth on it, though. I read that aloud.
She messed my hair. “This—” she pointed to a small blob “—is your brother or sister.”
I took the picture from her. She sighed, watchin’ me try to make out arms, a hand, or even a leg. Nothin’.
“What are you thinkin’? Boy or girl?”
“Boy,” I said automatically. Not sure why, but I couldn’t see havin’ a sister for some reason.
“Maybe,” Mam said. “We’ll know soon enough.”
“The baby’s not goin’ to take that long to bake?”
