My breath catches.
Dr. Harris looks at me, then at the screen. “Most insurance providers aren’t going to cover transport at this point.”
“It’s covered,” Spencer says, calm and firm. “Personal pay. That’s the least of our worries.”
And then?—
Beep. Beep. Beep.
A monitor starts shrieking.
Sharp. Fast. Urgent.
Esme lets out a weak cry. Her chest flutters like a bird’s wing—too fast, too shallow.
The nurse rushes to the monitor. “O2’s dropping. She’s desatting—ninety-one, now eighty-eight…”
Dr. Harris is already at the bedside, flipping through vitals, calling for respiratory support. His face tightens, tone shifting.
“Call the transport team,” he says to the nurse. “Prep for transfer. Now.” His earlier objections vanishing like smoke.
Spencer’s voice cuts through the speaker again, steady and clear. “The helicopter will be there in twenty minutes. Rhea, you stay with her. I’ll meet you when you land.”
Dr. Levinson is still calm, but business-like,. “We’ll remain on standby for handoff. My team will be ready on arrival.”
The call ends.
I look down at Esme—still so small, still struggling to breathe—and I feel the ground shift beneath me.
Because whatever happens next, it’s no longer just me and Esme.
Spencer’s in the center of this now. And I don’t know if that terrifies me… or saves me.
THIRTY-SIX
SPENCER
I stare at the phone for half a second too long before I finally hitCall.
She answers on the first ring.
“Rhea,” I say, and my voice catches. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
And as the words come out, I realize I have no right to promise that. But I need to say it anyway.Sheneeds to hear it. And it’s one thing I can give her.
“She’s on her way to the best care available,” I add, steadying my tone. “She’s going to get through this.”
There’s a beat of silence—just breath and background noise—then suddenly I hear it.
Commotion. Movement. Voices raised in the distance. A nurse calling out something I can’t quite make out. A man’s voice saying, “We need to go—now—she’s dropping again?—”
“Oh my God,” Rhea says, her voice shaking. “I have to go. They’re trying to get her ready for transport. I—God, I can’t lose her.”
And then the line goes dead.
Just silence.
Then time stands still. I’ve done what I can.
