Chapter 2 - THE MATCH
Dean drove home without turning on the radio. Jonah sat in the passenger seat with the stuffed fox in his lap, staring at the hospital bracelet around his wrist. It had been printed when the nurses registered him as Theo’s sibling, and Dean seemed to notice it every time they stopped beneath a streetlight.
When they reached the house, Dean walked directly into the nursery. The room had pale green walls, a white crib, and wooden shelves Jonah had helped install. A mobile of felt woodland animals turned slowly above the mattress. Dean stood in the center of the room without touching anything.
Jonah remained in the doorway. “Is he alive?”
Dean closed his eyes. “Your mother will call if something happens.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I don’t know.”
Jonah pulled out his phone and called Maren himself. She answered on the first ring, breathing hard as though she had been running. The doctors had stopped the bleeding in Theo’s lungs, she told him. He had received another platelet transfusion and was stable for the moment.
“Can I come back?”
There was a pause. “Your father brought you home.”
“I didn’t ask what Dad wanted.”
Dean turned sharply. “Give me the phone.”
Jonah stepped away. “Mom, can I come back?”
Maren began crying again. “Yes.”
Dean took the phone from him. “No. He is fifteen, Maren. He is not spending another night sleeping outside an intensive-care unit because of a situation you created.”
Jonah heard Maren say something he could not make out.
Dean’s face hardened. “Do not make this about punishment. I am protecting my son.”
Jonah looked into the nursery. “You had two sons yesterday.”
Dean ended the call.
The following morning, Jonah took the city bus to the hospital before Dean woke. He found Maren sitting beside the NICU window in yesterday’s hospital clothes. Her hair was unwashed, her face gray with exhaustion.
She stood when she saw him. “Does your father know you’re here?”
“He’ll figure it out.”
Maren tried to embrace him, but Jonah stepped back. The movement hurt her; he saw it. He was too angry to repair it for her.
“You lied to both of us,” he said. “I’m here for Theo. That doesn’t mean what you did was okay.”
“I know.”
“Did Aaron know?”
“No. I never told him.”
“Did he know you were pregnant?”
“No.”
Jonah looked through the glass. “So everybody made decisions except Theo.”
Maren lowered her eyes.
Dr. Quinn found them twenty minutes later. Theo had survived the hemorrhage, but the additional testing had ruled out infection and the most common immune disorders. The genetic panel had identified a rare inherited defect that prevented his marrow stem cells from developing normally. Transfusions could keep him alive temporarily, but they would become less effective and more dangerous over time.
“He needs a stem-cell transplant,” Dr. Quinn said.
“How soon?” Maren asked.
“Weeks, not months.”
Maren placed one hand against the glass. “What happens if you don’t find a donor?”
Dr. Quinn did not soften the answer. Theo would remain vulnerable to uncontrolled bleeding, severe infection, organ damage, and eventually complete marrow failure.
They had already begun searching the national donor registry. Maren was not a full match. Aaron was dead, and without a stored sample, he could not be tested. That left Jonah.
Jonah held out his arm. “You can test me.”
Maren looked frightened. “Jonah, this isn’t donating blood.”
“I know.”
Dr. Quinn explained that the first step was only a blood test. If Jonah proved compatible, an independent donor advocate would evaluate him. No procedure would occur until the medical team had explained the risks and determined that he understood them without pressure.
“Test me,” Jonah repeated.
Dean’s voice came from behind them. “No.”
He stood at the end of the corridor, still wearing the shirt in which he had slept. Anger had hollowed his face.
Jonah turned. “How did you find me?”
“You left your transit card history on the family account.”
Dr. Quinn stepped between them before the argument could grow. “Mr. Mercer, testing Jonah does not commit him to donation.”
“He is a minor.”
“He is also Theo’s biological half sibling.”
Dean flinched at the phrase.
Jonah rolled up his sleeve. “It’s my blood.”
“And you are my son.”
“That mattered yesterday when you were telling me brothers take care of each other.”
Dean looked toward the incubator and immediately looked away.
Maren signed the testing authorization. Dean refused to add his signature, but the hospital’s legal team confirmed that a noninvasive compatibility test required the consent of one custodial parent and Jonah’s assent. A nurse drew four tubes of blood.
The results returned shortly before midnight.
Jonah was not a complete match. Because the boys had different fathers, no one expected him to be. But he had inherited the same maternal HLA haplotype as Theo, making him a strong half-match. Advances in transplant medicine meant his marrow could be used if no fully matched donor appeared.
The registry search had found no complete match.
Dr. Quinn placed the report on the table.
BEST AVAILABLE RELATED DONOR: JONAH MERCER.
Dean read the line twice. “Keep searching.”
“We will,” Dr. Quinn said. “But Theo may not have time.”
“You’re asking me to risk one child for another.”
“The physical risk to Jonah is low, but it is not zero. That is why he would have his own medical team and donor advocate.”
“No.”
Jonah stared at him. “You didn’t even ask me.”
“I don’t have to.”
“You keep saying you’re protecting your son. Which one?”
Dean struck the table with his palm. “There is only one.”
Through the wall, Theo’s monitor began alarming again.
Dr. Quinn took the red transplant folder from the table and held it against her chest. “Then you need to understand what your decision means. If Theo develops another major hemorrhage before we establish a donor plan, he may not survive it.”
Dean’s face changed, but he did not answer.
Jonah looked at his name printed inside the folder.
May you like
For the first time since Theo’s birth, he understood that loving his brother might require more than staying beside the glass.
It might require standing against his father.
