PART 3: A RACE AGAINST DEATH
My black Lincoln SUV tore frantically through the streets of Manhattan, heading straight for the Queens General Hospital. A drizzle was falling, the water droplets clinging to the car windows like Emma's tears in the letter.
In the backseat, Liam and Lucas had fallen asleep from exhaustion, their heads leaning against each other. They still tightly held the two worn teddy bears from the old backpack. I sat in the passenger seat, my eyes glued to my phone screen, where Claire was continuously updating me with information from my connections in the medical industry.
"Mr. Miller, I found her," Claire’s voice came urgently through the Bluetooth earpiece. "Emma Vance. She was brought by ambulance into the intensive care unit of Queens Hospital at 5:15 AM in a state of total collapse due to terminal cancer complications. The doctors say... she has fallen into a deep coma and her prognosis is very poor. They are keeping her alive on life support."
"Tell the hospital director to use the best doctors, the most modern equipment!" I roared into the phone. "If necessary, hire a helicopter to transfer her to the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center immediately. Cost is not an issue!"
"I have already contacted Sloan Kettering, sir. But the doctors in Queens say her condition is too weak; she wouldn't survive a transfer, even by helicopter. You need to get there right away... these could be her final hours."
Claire's words were like a knife stabbing straight into my heart. I turned back to look at my two sleeping sons. They had just found me, and now they were about to lose the mother who had protected them for four years? I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't bear another debt of blood and tears to Emma.
"Faster!" I urged the driver. The car ran a red light, flying over the bridge connecting Manhattan and Queens.
When we arrived at the hospital, the waiting lobby smelled heavily of disinfectant and was filled with exhausted faces. I carried Lucas in my arms while my other hand held Liam's, walking rapidly through the long corridors. The appearance of a man in an expensive suit, pale-faced, leading twin children dressed in simple clothes caused many people to turn and stare.
A chief physician was waiting for me outside the ICU doors. Seeing me, he shook his head slightly.
"Mr. Miller? I am Dr. Evans. Your assistant called me. We are doing everything we can, but the cancer cells have metastasized to her major internal organs. The fact that she was able to exert enough will to write that letter and send the children away this morning is already a miracle of determination. Her body is completely spent."
"I want to go in and see her," I said, my voice choked up.
"Only you should go in first. The children shouldn't see this right now," Dr. Evans looked at Liam and Lucas with sympathetic eyes.
I handed the two children over to Claire, who had just driven up. I put on the sterile protective gown and stepped through the thick glass door of the ICU. The steady, hollow beeping of the machines echoed in the quiet space.
On the snow-white hospital bed, Emma lay there. She had lost a tremendous amount of weight compared to five years ago. Her once-plump cheeks were now hollowed out, her skin pale, and her beautiful golden hair was reduced to a few wisps tucked beneath a medical cloth cap. She was covered in various tubes and wires.
I approached, kneeling beside the bed, and took her slender hand, which was crosshatched with needle marks. The hand that used to be so warm was now ice cold.
"Emma... it's me," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "Jason is here. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for being a monster. I'm sorry for leaving you and the children to endure all of this alone."
The heart monitor suddenly changed its rhythm, the beeping becoming rapid and erratic. Emma's closed eyelids fluttered slightly. She slowly opened her eyes. The eyes that once held my entire autumn sky were now cloudy, but upon seeing me, a faint spark of light flared up.
She couldn't speak because of the ventilator tube in her mouth, but her fingers squeezed my hand weakly.
"The boys... they are right outside," I said hurriedly, understanding the anxiety in her gaze. "Liam and Lucas are right outside the door. They are so good. They ate pancakes and blueberries. I have accepted them, Emma. They are my sons. I swear on my honor, on my life, I will raise them to be the finest men. I will never abandon them again."
A tear rolled from the corner of Emma's eye. She looked at me, her gaze no longer holding resentment, only an immense, boundless relief. Her chest heaved.
"Doctor! Doctor!" I screamed as I saw the readings on her blood pressure monitor suddenly drop drastically.
Doctors and nurses rushed into the room. Dr. Evans pushed me backward. "Mr. Miller, her heartbeat is fading. We have to defibrillate!"
"Emma! Don't give up! You have to live to see our children grow!" I screamed in desperation as I was pushed out of the room by the nurses.
Through the glass window, I saw them place the two electrode pads onto Emma’s frail chest. Her body jolted with every shock. Outside the corridor, Liam and Lucas saw the commotion and ran over, pressing their small faces against the ICU glass.
May you like
"Mommy! Mommy!" the two children wailed, their tiny hands beating against the unyielding glass.
I tightly embraced my two sons from behind, covering their eyes, while my own eyes had to witness the line on Emma's heart monitor gradually flatten, letting out a long, agonizing, heartbreaking toll.
