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ZANDER AND EMMA STEPPED off the elevator and turned down the hall. Now that they were close, she felt renewed urgency. The nurses at the desk were busy talking and paid them little attention.
The door to Kylie’s room was propped open. She could see a nurse bent over her sister, taking her temperature. Her dad hovered at the end of the bed, his face impassive, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He was reaching a breaking point. Despite his outward appearance he was closer to falling apart than any of them. She didn’t worry so much about her mom. Mom cried, dried her tears and cried again, but her spirit was strong. Her faith in God’s goodness would see her through. She sat now on the other side of the bed, holding Kylie’s hand and smiling.
“Are you sure this is the best time to do this?” Zander stood with his back against the wall, out of her parent’s line of vision.
“It’s the only time. I can’t let them give her radiation treatment if there’s another way,” she responded, peeking into the room without catching their attention. “The nurse will be done in a minute, and then you can send my parents away. Believe me, they need a break. I don’t think either one of them slept last night at all. I know I didn’t.” She put her hand on his arm and they moved away from the door before the nurse came out of the room.
Zander combed his fingers through his hair. “You’re right. They’re tired and your dad is really scared.” He smiled at the look on her face. “I guess you got a magic touch.”
“Wow.” She dropped her hand to her side. “This could just work.”
They faced each other for long seconds, not speaking. Emma imagined blood pumping through her brother’s veins and into hers. She wondered which of them was the dominant twin or if that even applied since they were raised separately. What had their birth parents been like? Were they kind? Did they know God? Or were they lost and searching for a solid place to stand? Like Zander seemed to be.
She closed her eyes and went to the One she was sure of, the Father she could rely on, the friend in times of trouble. She prayed for strength, healing for Kylie, and ended by bringing Zander’s name before the throne of grace. When she looked up, her brother was smiling into her eyes.
“Amen,” he murmured softly, apparently still tuned to her frequency.
“Do you need the door open?” she asked, hesitating.
“No, but I need your hands.”
They stood a foot apart, hands clasped. Emma was sure the nurses were probably staring, wondering what kind of nuts they were, but she didn’t care. Zander closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His grip on her hands was firm but not tight. His forehead wrinkled with concentration as he breathed the words softer than a whisper.
“Go to the cafeteria for coffee. You need time away from this room. As soon as Emma returns, you’ll go. You need to go. You will go.”
He opened his eyes, and slowly stepped back releasing her hands, then moved to a nearby chair and sat down as though exhausted. “I’ll wait out here.”
She hesitated, wondering if it could be that easy, then entered the room.
“Where have you been?” her mother asked. Emma could tell she had been crying again. She had that puckered look around the eyes and mouth and a crumpled tissue clutched in her hand.
“I went to the cafeteria,” she said, keeping her voice low. Kylie appeared to have fallen asleep and she didn’t want to wake her...yet.
Her dad and mom moved toward the door with common purpose. “We’re going to get some coffee. You’ll be all right for a few minutes, won’t you, honey?” her mother said. “Kylie will probably sleep a while anyway.”
“Sure. We’ll be fine.” She marveled at the ease with which they’d capitulated to Zander’s control, especially since neither one really liked coffee.
She approached the bed and looked down on her sister’s pale face. Tucked under one arm was Kylie’s favorite Barbie doll, wearing a doctor’s coat and a tiny stethoscope. She smiled. The kid wouldn’t go anywhere without her. She said Dr. Barbie was going to “fix her.”
The door opened again, and Zander stuck his head in. “Should I come in now?”
“Yes. Hurry. We might not have much time.”
Kylie’s eyelids fluttered open. She smiled when she saw Emma and then her gaze moved toward Zander. Her eyes widened. “Emma. We have a brother,” she said, unconcerned with the how’s or why’s but rather the excitement of a dream come true. She’d always wanted a brother and had repeatedly demanded one from their parents up until about a year ago when they informed her very gently that it was never going to happen.
“That’s right, Kylie. We have a brother. Zander. He’s here in time to help me make you feel better.” Emma smoothed her sister’s hair back from her forehead and clasped Kylie’s hands together in her own, pressing them gently upon her chest. Zander moved to the other side of the bed and placed his hands over hers. She could feel him lifting some of the heaviness inside of her.
“I’m glad,” Kylie murmured sleepily, “I’m tired of being sick and I always wanted a brother to play with. Even if he is as big as you.”
Emma looked up. “I forgot. I don’t have my...” she whispered, suddenly terrified that this opportunity would come to nothing.
“You don’t need a keyboard. You have your voice–the music God put in your heart. And me. Let’s do this thing.”
Kylie snored softly. She’d fallen asleep again. Emma drew a steadying breath and slowly released it, feeling the song come to her in stages. Was this what it was like to be filled with the Spirit and speak in the tongues of angels? She didn’t know. But it was dizzying and mind-boggling and she was thankful for the strength and support of Zander covering her hands with his own and standing beside her–inside as well as out.
She closed her eyes and lifted her voice in praise to the Great Physician. There were no words–only notes–a tune written in her mind by a voice like a tinkling cymbal and rushing water.
Zander watched in amazement. Her face glowed with an inner light and her hands seemed to radiate heat to the entire room. His hands felt hot and tingling as though a charged current ran between them. He couldn’t have stepped away if he’d tried.
She didn’t sing random notes, but it was not a tune he recognized. Her voice rose and fell with unconcealed fervor; a petition for healing, a prayerful request to God. Kylie’s long lashes fluttered open again and she smiled at her sister, her eyes no longer dull and lifeless, but clear and bright with vigor.
The door burst open and Emma’s parents rushed in, followed closely by two nurses. Emma stopped singing mid-note. Silence fell over the room. She couldn’t recreate the inspiration. It was gone as quickly as it had come. Now all that remained was a sense of being spent, like a snuffed candle or a smoking gun.
“What in the name of heaven are you doing, Emma?” her father demanded. His voice vibrated with barely-contained rage. Zander could see the man clench his fists at his sides, as though keeping them from reaching out to strangle his eldest daughter.
The nurses glanced back and forth, deemed the situation personal, and quietly left the room, pulling the door closed behind them. But he could feel them listening outside the room.
Mrs. Tatum put a hand on her husband’s arm, a calming touch that took some of the sting from his glare. Her eyes were damp with tears as she stepped toward the bed. “Emma, what are you doing, honey?” she asked, repeating the question in a gentle, soothing voice as though she feared Emma might harm her sister in some way with her abilities. “Kylie shouldn’t be excited right now. You know that. She needs rest, so she’ll be strong for her treatment.”
“Mommy, Emma was singing. It was pretty.” Kylie pushed herself up with her elbows to a sitting position, the tip of her tongue protruding with the effort. She held Dr. Barbie out toward her mom. “Here. I don’t need her anymore. I feel all better.”
Mrs. Tatum tentatively reached for the doll. Mixed emotions skittered across her face. Worry, concern...hope. Finally, she lifted her eyes from Kylie and for the first time, noticed Zander standing quietly on the other side of the bed. She gasped, and the doll fell forgotten to the floor.
“Lori?” Mr. Tatum stepped forward. His wife’s knees buckled but he caught her when she would have crumpled to the floor. Emma moved to help ease her into a chair.
She bent over her mother. “Are you all right, Mom?”
She nodded before opening her eyes. Her gaze immediately returned to Zander.
He knew what she was thinking but refrained from answering the questions in her head. Instead, he waited for a barrage of verbal inquiry. But it didn’t come from Mrs. Tatum.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my daughter’s room?” Mr. Tatum demanded; his attention sufficiently diverted from worry to defense of his family.
“Daddy, it’s okay.” Emma put her hand out. “This is Zander. He’s my–friend,” she said.
“He looks just like...” her mother began, her face ashen. “I don’t understand.”
“You said he was our new brother, Emma.” Kylie scooted to the side of the bed where Zander stood and took his hand. “You are my brother, aren’t you?”
“Kylie, get back in bed!”
“But Daddy, I don’t want to lay in bed anymore. I want to play with Zander.”
“Kylie, lay down,” her father repeated. His face twisted with anguish and confusion.
Kylie flopped down, a pout on her lips.
He turned back to Emma. His voice shook. “Bring your friend and come out in the hallway. I want to speak with you.”
“Sam–don’t say something you’re going to regret.”
“It’s okay, Mom.” Emma patted her mother’s shoulder but stood her ground. She licked dry lips. “Daddy, you need to sit down too, and listen. Please.”
The last word seemed to take the bluster out of him, and he rubbed a hand over his face as though suddenly overcome with exhaustion. He moved obediently toward the other chair and slumped into it.
“I’m sorry if this is painful, but I don’t know any other way to tell you,” she began.
Her mom sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the pads of her fingers. “Just tell us, honey.”
“Zander is my twin.”
Her mother didn’t seem as shocked as she’d expected. “We can see that, Emma. But how can this be? I would have known if I’d had twins.”
“You didn’t. You had a girl. But she died shortly after birth. Dr. Brock switched her with me,” Emma said, her voice choked with tears. She breathed in deeply for calm.
Her father stared at Emma, dazed. “Our baby died, and she stole you from another family?” His voice was dull with disbelief.
“It’s not what you think, Daddy. She was protecting all of us the only way she could.”
“Protecting us? Is that what she told you? I knew there was something strange about that woman when she came to Hanover. What kind of doctor makes house calls anymore?”
The nonsensical question squelched discussion. Silence moved across the room like a shadow. She looked at Zander and he flashed her a confident smile. He really was the only one who completely understood; who felt what she felt. She smiled back. It was good to be able to share this burden of emotion she’d carried for so long, but she didn’t want to lose the only family she’d ever known in the process.
“Now can I get up? I want to go home and show Zander my room and all my toys.” Kylie wiped a hand back and forth across her nose. “He hasn’t even met Bear yet.”
“Bear?” Zander’s eyes widened. “You don’t have a real bear, do you?”
Kylie giggled and shook her head against the pillows as though it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Course not, silly. Bear is a dog.”
“But he’s nearly as big as a bear, right Kylie?” Emma took Kylie’s hand and squeezed. It was obvious her sister was feeling a lot better. The color had returned to her cheeks and her eyes shined bright with eagerness.
Lori and Sam looked on as though watching the scene of a play unfold on stage; in the same room but not quite involved in the action. A tap on the door brought their heads around. A doctor entered, followed by four interns. He pulled a pen from his coat pocket and scribbled a notation on the chart in his hand. The interns clustered behind him, waiting. The doctor cleared his throat when he looked up.
“Hello. I’m Dr. Langier.” He held out his hand toward Zander who happened to be standing closest to Kylie. Zander automatically shook it. “We’re making rounds for Dr. Belagosi this afternoon. You don’t mind if my students tag along, do you?”
“I mind,” Mr. Tatum burst out. He stood up from the nearby chair and gestured toward the door. “We were having a private conversation before you interrupted.”
The doctor paused. He rubbed a finger lightly across his upper lip and gave a curt nod to the tagalong crew. “Out of the room, children,” he said. “I’ll handle this one alone.”
The four interns filed obediently out of the room.
Dr. Langier turned to Mr. Tatum and smiled. “Sorry to interrupt. I wanted to check in and see if...” He read the name on the chart again. “Kylie is ready to begin her treatment. I believe they’re almost ready for her.”
He gave Kylie a cursory examination and straightened up, a small frown pulling his brows down in the middle. “How do you feel, young lady?” he asked.
Kylie sat up and eagerly pushed the blankets aside. “Good. Can I go home now? I’m not sick anymore.”
*****
STEVEN TRIED ZANDER’S cell phone again. The call went straight through to voice mail. He left a message and slid his phone back into his breast pocket. The boy wasn’t allowed to use a cell in school, but most of the kids had theirs on vibrate anyway. Hopefully he’d call back between classes.
He got into his truck and turned toward home. People seemed to be driving lethargically, hesitating when lights turned green, pulling slowly into traffic as though they had all day. He honked at an old man in a huge Cadillac who stopped in front of him at a four-way and couldn’t decide to turn left or right. Steven released an exasperated breath as the man finally inched his way through the intersection. He was usually a pretty calm and patient driver but after his conversation with Marcus he felt as though time was slipping through his fingers and he was unable to do anything about it.
He knew Marcus didn’t give a rip about what happened to him, and up till now had barely acknowledged Zander as his grandson. But he must feel some sort of bond or he never would have come to him with Devlin’s threats. If nothing else, Marcus loved his daughter and would protect her at all costs.
Dare he explain any of this to Serena? She’d been content to live in the dark about most things for the past sixteen years. He doubted now would be the time to open up and divulge the truth. Though, she’d seemed different of late. Almost normal. Whatever that was. It was hard to remember what that was like.
He glanced in the rearview mirror again, half expecting to see Devlin following. But according to Marcus, the man used a set of twin teenage boys to do his dirty work. What kind of man would train children to commit criminal acts in the name of science? A black Chevy Suburban with tinted windows was in the next lane, a couple of car lengths behind him. He’d noticed it at the last traffic light. The driver had stayed back a ways from the other cars. Either he was a very careful driver, sticking religiously to the two-second rule, or he didn’t want to be seen.
Steven put his blinker on and turned right at the next corner to test his theory. The Chevy changed lanes and followed, slowing enough to keep the same distance between them. He pulled into a gas station and up to the pump, shut off the engine and climbed out as though to fill his tank. The black truck kept going. He watched the street in case it turned around and came back. After a couple of minutes, he climbed back in his Explorer and pulled out onto the street going in the opposite direction.
His cell phone rang. He slipped it out of his pocket. “This is Steven.”
“Zander isn’t at school. They called and said he skipped classes this afternoon. He isn’t answering his cell phone either. I think something may have happened to him,” Serena said, in a breathless rush of words.
“Hang on, babe. I’ll be home in five minutes. Keep calling him. He probably forgot to turn his phone back on when he left school. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,” he soothed even as his heart accelerated. How would Devlin manage to get him out of school? Were the twins involved? If so, what were they really capable of?
“Nothing to worry about? He’s never done anything like this before, Steven. I talked to him this morning. He seemed distracted like he had something on his mind.”
He flipped his blinker on to turn right. “He didn’t say anything?”
“No, not really. But he was up early, excited to get there.”
“Michael probably talked him into something. That kid is a major troublemaker.” He tried to sound exasperated rather than concerned. “I’m sure he’s fine. Every boy skips school once in a while. It’s a rite of passage or something.”
“Well, I don’t want Zander hanging out with that boy anymore.”
He cleared his throat. “Neither do I. But first we need to find him.”
*****
AFTER DR. LANGIER CONFERRED with the nurse assigned to Kylie and looked through her chart, he returned to the room. “Your daughter no longer has fever, bruising, or abdominal pain. I’m not saying Dr. Brock’s prognosis was wrong, but I think we should redo the blood work before putting Kylie through intensive radiation treatment. I’ve tried to contact Dr. Brock but haven’t been able to reach her.” Dr. Langier frowned his disapproval at the situation. “How do you feel about taking Kylie home this afternoon and waiting until the new results are in? I’ll put a rush on them and call you personally to let you know the outcome. I have a feeling we won’t be seeing you back here anytime soon.”
Lori hugged Kylie tightly, her chin on the top of her head as they sat together in the chair. A smile lit her eyes. “Sounds wonderful. Thank you, doctor.”
Sam shook the doctor’s hand as though he’d performed a miracle by merely showing up. “Yes, thank you, doctor.”
“This could very well have resulted from a lab mix-up. Children have been known to show severe symptoms and suddenly their immune system takes over and shuts it all down.”
Lori and Sam locked eyes, the truth hitting them both at the same time.
When the doctor retreated from the room Lori let Kylie slip off her lap to go into the bathroom and change out of her gown. Emma and Zander stood silently in the corner of the room. She gave his hand a light squeeze of reassurance.
“Daddy, Zander and I are going to find Dr. Brock. He’ll bring me home later.” They moved toward the door, not waiting for an answer. The last thing she needed was a confrontation with her father. She was drained, sapped of energy. Mentally and physically.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, young lady. You’ll go home with your family just as you came.” Her father faced them, hands on hips, frowning his disapproval. It was as though he’d been playing this part for so long, he didn’t know how to react any differently.
“Sam, let her go.” Lori stood beside him and slipped her arm around his stiff frame. “We can’t change the truth. She belongs to him just as well as to us now. They need answers. Maybe Dr. Brock will be able to give them some. I’d certainly like to know the whole story.”
“We’ll talk when I get home, Mom. I promise.”
Kylie burst out of the bathroom, zipping up her jeans at the same time. “Where are you going, Emma? I want to go too.” She grabbed Zander’s hand.
Emma bent down and hugged her sister. “I won’t be gone long. I’ll be home in time to tuck you in and read the next chapter of our book together. I promise.”
Lori moved forward and gently pulled Kylie away. She reached out and brushed Emma’s cheek lightly with her fingertips, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Thank you, baby. I couldn’t bear to lose either one of my daughters today.”
Emma felt a lump form in her throat. She couldn’t respond. She wiped away the tear that slipped down her cheek. It felt good to have parental approval for a change. The last few weeks had taken its toll. Feeling powerless had stripped her of everything. Everything but faith. God was the true healer. She was only an instrument in his hand. Until she realized the enormity of that truth, she’d been impotent to help her sister.
Her father cleared his throat. “Drive carefully, young man. And don’t keep your sister out late. It’s been a long day.”
Zander nodded. He held the door open. “Yes sir.”
Emma started to follow but suddenly whipped around and flew into her father’s arms with a sob. “I love you, daddy.”
He stroked her back and held her tight. “I love you too, pumpkin. And I’m sorry...for everything.”