Intracranial... what?
"A brain hemorrhage?" Stig croaks, sounding almost as if this information is new to him too.
I still don't understand, but I know it sounds terribly ominous. "And how... I mean... how does that affect him?"
She leans closer to me. "An intracranial hemorrhage, depending on its extent, exerts pressure on the patient's brain, which can lead to brain damage."
Brain damage? I anxiously cover my mouth with my hands.
"My God." Stig's voice trembles.
"The medical intervention has been unsuccessful so far. We should treat the bleeding surgically," June cautiously addresses both of us. "It's not without risks, as you can probably imagine."
She proceeds to list a series of horrifying scenarios that could occur during or after the operation. She's just doing her job and doesn't want to risk any legal issues. I understand that, but the pressure in my chest keeps mounting. Even though I don't comprehend much, it's clear to me that my father won't be leaving this hospital anytime soon.
"And in the best-case scenario?" I ask the doctor because the thought of death, coma, or irreversible neurological damage is so overwhelming that I want to forget it as quickly as possible.
She forces a hopeless smile. "If his spinal cord injury heals well, and the removal of the intracranial bleeding goes perfectly smoothly?" She pauses, as if contemplating whether to emphasize how unlikely that is.
"Exactly," I quickly confirm. My gaze briefly shifts to Stig, who clenches his lips.
I can tell she doesn't want to disappoint me. "Even in that case, we're talking about several weeks, maybe even months." She stands up and looks meaningfully at both me and Stig. "Mr. Gustavson is not in a mental state to make decisions. I need consent for the surgery from both of you."
Oh God. I'm supposed to decide?
I can't. What if I make everything worse?
"What do you think?" I ask Stig, who has been growing paler over the past few minutes.
His attempt to shrug ends in a hissing sound of pain. "It seems to be the only option."
I'm afraid so, too. Swallowing hard, I turn to June. "Where do I have to sign?"
With a soft click, the door closes behind her a few minutes later. Silence envelops me, both around me and within me. The electric buzz of the neon lamp takes center stage.
"You used to work forTouch av lyxand were supposed to succeed your father," Stig remarks, his voice laden with exhaustion.
I nod absentmindedly. "That was our shared dream."
A rattling sound accompanies his deep breath. "Your father is seriously injured but thankfully stable at the moment. Even if his surgery and recovery go perfectly, he'll be"—he pauses, coughing hard—"restricted for months," he manages to utter.
That's exactly what the doctor explained. And as if that wasn't bad enough, he doesn't want me around either. If it were up to him, I should leave Stockholm as soon as possible.
But how could I just walk away in this situation? I will always be his daughter in my heart, and I want to be there for him.
"I can't take his place because I'll be bound to this bed for weeks." Stig's cheeks turn bright red. "Internal..." He wheezes, attempting to cough but failing. "...injuries."
This is bad. "Kahlo could temporarily take over," I suggest. After all, I know from the press reports that our chief designer still works forTouch av lyx. He's one of the oldest employees and knows the operations well.
Stig shakes his head vigorously. "He's a designer, not a businessman." He looks at me from half-closed eyes. "You should step in."
Me? "No," I reply faster than I can think. Father wouldn't like that, and I don't want to upset him further.
"You know this company from the ground up and understand what's important." His upper body curls, and he presses his hands to his chest with a pained expression. "Gustav talked so many times about how he taught you everything."
What? Father not only revealed my existence but also mentioned that I've become a part ofTouch av lyx—and vice versa?
Amid all the worry and fear for Father, a warm feeling sneaks into my chest. "You think he'd be okay with it?" I ask with too much hope in my voice.
