Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Except the woman he saved. She didn’t hear the car, and he pushed her out of the way, but he was unable to get himself to safety before the car hit him.
Rafe was being touted as a hero.
Nadia wanted to puke. She didn’t want him to be a hero to anyone but her and the girls.
When Hazel had brought the girls to the hospital, Nadia had done her best. She hugged them tightly and told them what had happened, and how their daddy was no longer with them. Gemma cried instantly, while Lynnea had questions. Each one started with “Why.”
Why did this happen?
Why Daddy?
Why will Daddy not wake up?
Why can’t the doctors help him?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Nadia had the same questions. The girls had said their goodbyes, given their dad one last kiss, and then gone home with Hazel, who promised to shield them from the television. As much as Nadia wanted her girls with her, they were best off with Hazel for the time being. Nadia needed to be a wife to Rafe in his last moments.
Later, when everyone seemed exhausted and no one knew what they were supposed to do, Nadia, Otto, and Cleo met with staff about Rafe becoming an organ donor. They gave the family brochures for something called the United Network for Organ Sharing, or UNOS.
Cleo was vehemently against it, saying she didn’t want her baby boy chopped up like some science experiment gone wrong, while Otto had concerns about who would get Rafe’s organs. He didn’t want someone who didn’t deserve his organs to get them over someone who did.
Nadia was numb. She may have been present in the room, hearing the staff talk about what a final gift organ donation would be for Rafe, but she wasn’t listening. Her mind and soul were in the room with him. Willing him to defy every odd there was and wake up. Because she knew she would never see him smile again, hear his voice, or feel his touch, she wasn’t in any hurry to unplug him.
Still, a decision had to be made, and she was the one to make it. Unless Cleo found a way to stop her.
They had fought in the hallway. Cleo told Nadia that she was Rafe’s mother and should be the one to decide what happened to him. Nadia let her say her piece. She had to. His mother grieved, and Nadia imagined she’d feel the same way if it was one of the girls in there and she and her husband had to make this choice. It wasn’t easy, and yet it seemed so simple. Rafe had organs that would help others live longer, better lives. Why shouldn’t his memory live on in this way?
Would he have wanted this?
Nadia struggled with that question. Organ donation wasn’t something they’d ever discussed, and it wasn’t listed on their driver’s licenses. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought about because this—the situation they were in—wasn’t supposed to happen to them. They were good people who loved their children, their jobs, their community. They gave back and volunteered. They donated clothes, books, and toys all year long, not just over the holidays. God was supposed to look out for them.
She looked at her husband, peaceful and resting. With Geri’s help, they’d cleaned his face and hands. He no longer looked like someone who’d been hit by a car but a man who slept deeply. Oh, how she wished she could wake him.
The door to his room opened, and her parents, Warren and Lorraine Bolton, walked in. They had driven to Boston from Washington, DC, stopping along the way to pick up Nadia’s brother, Reuben, and older sister, Sienna.
Nadia rose and fell into her mother’s open arms. Sobs racked her body, and tears that she thought had long dried up streamed down her cheeks. Her father wrapped them both into his strong arms and soothed her. Normally, his touch would calm her, but not today. Probably not ever again.
“What am I going to do?”
Nadia didn’t expect them to answer. There wasn’t one to give. No one knew how to cope after something like this. Her healthy husband had run in an annual road race and was now dead because someone’s brakes had failed. Was it the driver’s fault? In a sense, yes. What were they doing going down the street at a high rate of speed to begin with? Why didn’t they downshift? Apply the emergency brake? How does someone not listen to their car when it needs new brakes? How could someone be so irresponsible?
Now, Nadia sounded like Lynnea with all her questions.
“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Lorraine Bolton told her daughter. “Dad and I aren’t going anywhere until you’re ready.”
“What if I’m never ready?” Nadia stepped back and watched their expressions.
“Then I guess we’re moving to Boston,” Warren said. “Wherever you need us, we’ll be there.”