Chapter 29 #2
Forty minutes passed in silence. Oakland stared at her sister’s screen, willing the words not to come and willing time to stop.
It didn’t.
A moment later, the screen flickered.
Spectra
The patient is in the operating room.
It wasn’t the absence of sound but the weight of something unspeakable pressing down, thick and suffocating. The tension didn’t vanish, it just… shifted.
Kiley let out a shaky breath. “I hate this.”
For the first time since Oakland arrived, she didn’t sound mad. Just scared.
Elena’s voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. “I just want him to come home.”
Oakland swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to breathe, to stay grounded. “Me too.”
Somewhere behind the waiting room doors, masked surgeons hovered over her father’s chest. The cool scent of antiseptic. The steady, rhythmic pulse of the monitors.
The thought made her stomach churn.
Kiley’s knee bounced repeatedly against the armrest of her chair. “I don’t even remember what I said to him last.”
Oakland’s throat tightened. The last time she’d seen him was burned into her memory—sharp, ugly, unforgettable. He’d given her an ultimatum: fall in line or be cut off for good.
She forced the thought away. “He knows you love him, Ky.”
“I don’t know if he does.”
Oakland reached across the space between them, hesitant but firm, and gripped Kiley’s sleeve. Not pulling, just… there.
“I do,” she said quietly. “And you do, too.”
Kiley’s breath hitched. But she didn’t pull away.
A sharp vibration.
Spectra
The patient’s procedure has begun.
Oakland closed her eyes.
She pictured the sterile operating room, the unforgiving glare of surgical LEDs reflecting off pristine steel.
The rhythmic pulse of monitoring equipment filled the space, tracking every fluctuation in his vitals with unerring precision.
Her father lay motionless, suspended between fragility and science.
At the same time, skilled hands and cutting-edge robotics worked in perfect synchrony—repairing, reinforcing, and holding him in the delicate balance between survival and loss.
“Oakland?”
Kiley swallowed hard, gripping her phone like it was the only thing tethering her to the ground. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”
Oakland let out a sharp breath, her arms tightening over her chest. Apparently, they were having this conversation right now. “Then how was it supposed to happen, Kiley?”
Kiley flinched, her jaw tightening like she was trying to keep something in.
“I told him because… because when I saw you at that game, you looked… God, you looked so happy. Like, actually happy.” Her voice wavered, her hands curling into fists against her lap.
“And then I saw her at your apartment, and it hit me—this wasn’t just something you’d get over. And I panicked.”
“So how did the whole freaking church find out?” Oakland demanded.
Kiley hesitated for a moment. “I think someone overheard me talking to Dad.”
Oakland blinked. The words felt distant, muffled, like they were coming from underwater. She pressed her tongue against her teeth, willing herself to stay calm.
How stupid.
“So that’s it?” she said finally, voice low, measured. “You told Dad, someone else heard, and then what? It spread like wildfire? People watching me, following me, plastering posters all over Christine’s bar?—”
“I didn’t know it would get this bad.” Kiley’s voice cracked. “I didn’t think?—”
“No,” Oakland cut her off, her chest tightening. “You didn’t think. Do you know how many of my clients were from the church? They’re all gone now, Kiley. I could lose my business.”
A silence settled between them, thick and suffocating.
Kiley exhaled shakily, pressing her fingers against her forehead.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Her voice was raw now, as if she were forcing the words past something heavy.
“I didn’t mean for it to turn into this.
I just thought—I don’t know what I thought.
” She shook her head, eyes glassy, distant.
“I just wanted Dad to hear it from someone who actually loves you. Not from some rumor. Not from the church.”
Oakland stared at her sister, feeling something shift, something unravel. The anger still pulsed beneath her skin but wasn’t as sharp anymore.
Because the look on Kiley’s face wasn’t just regret. It was fear.
And for the first time, Oakland realized—it wasn’t just her world that was upended.
A final vibration.
Spectra
Patient on bypass.
Her father’s heart was technically stopped inside his chest now, precision-guided surgical systems mapping and repairing damaged tissue in real-time.
Microvascular bots threaded through his arteries, reinforcing weak points and clearing blockages with pinpoint accuracy.
For now, the machines synchronized with his rhythm, keeping everything steady, keeping him alive.
And in the waiting room, their hearts held still.
The steady hum of recessed lighting filled the silence, too even, too calm. It wasn’t enough to cover the rhythm she’d lost.
Oakland glanced at Kiley, expecting fire, another sharp edge. But her sister just sat there, staring at nothing, her hands clenched so tightly in her lap that it looked like she might disappear inside herself.
Without thinking, Oakland reached over and took her hand.
Kiley’s fingers twitched, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she squeezed back, the pressure grounding, something solid in the airlessness of waiting.
Elena exhaled, a fragile sound, barely more than a breath.
And all they could do was sit there, suspended in the stillness, waiting for him to find his way back to them.
?