Aldridge
Mr. Cross, confirming Vela surgery underway. Per your directive and the discretionary review form filed on Monday, the reschedule has been processed in the system. Will follow up after.
I read it.
I read it again.
Vela.
Cross.
Per your directive.
Beau hadn't told me he’d made a directive or a call about a discretionary review form. He hadn't told me they'd rescheduled.
I had gotten a call from a woman named Patricia, who had told me there had been a priority reclassification. I'd thanked Patricia three times, but I hadn't asked Patricia why.
My thumb moved and tapped the notification.
The thread opened with three messages.
Aldridge
Mr. Cross, confirming priority reclassification per the chairman's discretionary review. Vela case escalated. Preoperative review done. Surgery will be on Thursday. Will need signed paperwork.
Beau
Confirmed. Will sign in person today. Forms on your desk by noon.
Aldridge
Mr. Cross, confirming Vela surgery underway. Per your directive and the discretionary review form filed on Monday, the reschedule has been processed in the system. Will follow up after.
I read all three.
20.Sabrina
Beau’s phone was still in my hand.
I closed my eyes.
A sound came out of me. A small involuntary thing — a half-syllable, somewhere between anoand a hum — that I didn't know I'd made until I heard it.
I thought about every option.
I could stop the surgery.
If I stopped the surgery, Bonnie would die. The foundation doesn't give the slot back to a patient whose chairman's discretionary review has been pulled under fraud. Bonnie would go back to the bottom of the list. She only had weeks.
I could let the surgery happen.
If I let the surgery happen, somebody else's child lost their slot.
I could confront Beau here in this lounge in front of Mrs. Park and Kit, but I couldn't.
I opened my eyes and wiped my tears.
Beau was beside me. He had taken my hand when I'd sat down. He hadn't let go.
