4. Enzo
4
ENZO
I t was early afternoon when I saw Summer and Ava again. They walked into the waiting room, Ava clutching a small stuffed bunny in one hand and Summer’s hand in the other. Ava’s knee was bandaged, but she moved with a cautious bounce, her curiosity shining brighter than her discomfort.
“Dr. Pearson!” Ava called out when she saw me, her face lighting up.
I grinned, stepping toward them. “Hey there, Ava. How’s my favorite patient today?”
“I’m good,” she said, holding up her bunny for me to see. “This is Bunny. He came with me to help.”
“Well, Bunny is a great helper,” I said, crouching to her level. “You’re lucky to have him.”
Summer’s soft laugh drew my attention. “She insisted Bunny come along,” she said, shaking her head. “Apparently, I don’t make the cut for emotional support.”
“Bunny’s important,” Ava declared, hugging the toy to her chest.
“Very important,” I agreed, winking at her before standing up. “All right, ladies. Ready for a few tests?”
Ava nodded eagerly. Summer, on the other hand, looked less enthusiastic, her lips pressed into a tight line.
“Follow me,” I said, leading them to the pediatric diagnostics wing. Ava’s chatter filled the hall as we walked, a bright contrast to Summer’s silence.
Inside the exam room, I explained what we’d be doing: a few simple cognitive and motor skill tests, followed by a routine scan to double-check everything before her surgery.
“It’s like playing games,” I told Ava. “You’ll see—it’ll be fun.”
Ava’s eyes lit up. “Games? I’m really good at games!”
“I’ll bet you are,” I said, setting up the first task.
The tests started with something simple—a sorting game where Ava had to group shapes by color and size. She dove into the task with enthusiasm, her little fingers moving quickly as she explained her choices out loud.
“This one’s red, so it goes here,” she said, dropping a triangle into the red bin. “And this one’s a square, but it’s blue, so it goes in the blue bin.”
“You’re fast,” I said, watching her with genuine admiration.
“She loves anything that lets her sort or organize,” Summer said from her seat nearby, her voice soft but proud.
Ava finished the task in record time, then beamed up at me. “What’s next?”
I handed her a puzzle. “Let’s see how fast you can put this together.”
She tackled the puzzle with the same determination, her little tongue poking out as she worked. Summer watched her intently, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
“She’s really good at this,” I said quietly, glancing at Summer.
“She always has been,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I bought her first puzzle when she was two, and she had it done in minutes. I thought it was a fluke, but… well, she just kept surprising me.”
“She’s brilliant,” I said, and I meant it.
Summer’s smile faded slightly, and she looked down at her hands. “She’s… special. In so many ways.”
I wanted to press her on what she meant, but Ava finished the puzzle and looked up at me expectantly.
“Done!” she declared, her grin wide.
“That was amazing,” I said, clapping lightly. “You’re officially the fastest puzzler I’ve ever met.”
Ava giggled, the sound pure and joyful.
The final part of the tests involved Ava’s motor skills. I handed her a small ball and asked her to roll it into a target a few feet away.
“This is easy!” she said confidently.
Her first roll landed perfectly in the center of the target, and she clapped her hands in excitement.
“You’ve got great aim,” I said.
“I practice,” she said with a shrug. “Mommy and I play catch sometimes.”
I glanced at Summer, who was smiling faintly. “You’re raising a little athlete, huh?”
“She’s good at just about anything she tries,” Summer said, her tone light but tinged with something deeper.
As we wrapped up the tests, I couldn’t help but notice the little details—the way Ava furrowed her brow when she was focused, the way she tilted her head when she was thinking. They were gestures I’d seen before.
In the mirror.
After the tests, I led them to another room for the scan. Ava climbed onto the table without hesitation, clutching Bunny tightly.
“This part’s easy,” I said, adjusting the machine. “You just have to lie really still, like a statue. Can you do that?”
“I can be a statue,” Ava said seriously, hugging Bunny to her chest.
“Perfect,” I said, stepping behind the screen to start the scan.
Summer stood beside me, her arms crossed. “Is all this really necessary?” she asked, her voice low.
“It is,” I said. “I want to make sure we’re not missing anything before the surgery.”
She sighed, but she didn’t argue.
The scan only took a few minutes, and Ava held perfectly still the entire time. When it was over, she hopped off the table, her face full of pride.
“I was a statue the whole time!” she said.
“You were amazing,” I said, ruffling her hair.
As we walked back to the exam room, Ava skipped ahead, humming to herself. Summer stayed close to me, her posture tense.
“She’s something else,” I said softly.
“She is,” Summer agreed, her voice barely above a whisper.
I hesitated, then decided to test the waters. “You know, she reminds me of someone.”
Summer’s steps faltered, and she glanced at me, her expression guarded. “Who?”
I shrugged, keeping my tone casual. “Me, a little. The way she concentrates, the way she talks when she’s excited. Even the way she holds a crayon—it’s like looking at myself as a kid.”
Summer’s grip on her purse tightened. “That’s… a coincidence.”
“Maybe,” I said, though I didn’t believe it for a second. “But I think she gets it from you, too. You were always sharp, always quick on your feet.”
She looked away, her jaw tight. “Enzo, please don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“Don’t start asking questions,” she said, her voice strained. “Not now. Not here.”
I stopped walking, turning to face her. “Summer, I’m not trying to make this harder. But I can’t ignore what’s right in front of me.”
Her eyes flashed with something—anger, fear, maybe both. “Ava is my daughter, Enzo. That’s all you need to know.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Ava ran back to us, interrupting.
“Mommy, can we go now? Bunny’s hungry for lunch.”
Summer seized the excuse, smiling down at Ava. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s get you something to eat.”
She didn’t look at me again as she led Ava out of the room.
I stood there for a moment, watching them go. The resemblance wasn’t just physical—it was in the way Ava moved, the way she thought, the way she saw the world.
And as much as Summer wanted to keep me in the dark, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the truth was right there, just waiting to be uncovered.