I run two red lights on the way to the hospital and at least one of them had cameras judging by the flash I saw in my rear-view mirror. I don’t care. I just want to get to Olivia as soon as possible. I’m already late. I’d turned my phone off to concentrate on my script, so I didn’t get the message until it was three hours old.

Tami couldn’t tell me what was wrong with Olivia so I have no idea what ward she’s in. She’s not in the ER, but one doctor tells me she’s been transferred to the Hepatology Department. I don’t stop to ask what the hell that means. I head in the direction he’s pointing and then follow the signs until I arrive out of breath at the front desk.

“I’m looking for Olivia Kaye,” I say between heavy breaths.

“Are you a relative?”

“Her babysitter.”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“Carly,” Marie calls out from the other side of the room. I ignore the unhelpful receptionist and run over to Marie who embraces me in a hug. She’s not crying, but she has been.

“What’s happened?” I ask.

“She collapsed at lunch. They ran some tests and apparently there’s a problem with her liver.”

“What kind of problem?”

“They don’t know for sure, but the doctor thinks it’s something called biliary hypoplasia. They’re running tests.”

“Can I see her?”

Marie nods and leads me to Olivia’s room. She’s lying on a bed either sleeping or unconscious, with tubes attached to her arms and nose. A steady beeping on the heart rate monitor provides some reassurance.

I want to throw up. I’ve never considered myself as blessed before, but seeing Olivia in this condition makes me realize I’ve never truly known fear. Until now.

I step forward cautiously until I’m close enough to hold her hand. It’s cold. There’s a bandage around her head which is partially covered with dry blood.

“She banged her head on the floor when she fell,” Marie explains. “It’s okay, though. At least, that’s not a cause for concern.”

A nurse walks in, so I step back to allow him to check up on Olivia.

“Where’s Parker?” I ask. I’m not sure if he’ll be pleased to see me, but he’ll have to drag me out of this room kicking and screaming if he wants me to leave.

“He’s getting a blood test,” Marie replies. “There’s a chance Olivia will need a liver transplant, so he wants to make sure he doesn’t have any conditions that would prevent him being a donor.”

“What type of conditions?”

“We don’t know what this is yet. Not for sure. It could be a hereditary disease, in which case Parker might have it too. A transplant from him wouldn’t be a good idea in that case. That would rule me out too.”

“Okay,” I say calmly. The feeling of nausea fades slightly as I realize there might be something I can do to help.

“‘Okay’ what?” Marie asks.

“Okay, I’ll go get my blood tested as well. I might be able to donate.”

“It should be family. Parker wouldn’t want you to go through that.”

“I don’t give a shit what he wants.” I turn to the nurse, who’s clearly listening in on our conversation. “You don’t have to be family to donate, right?”

“Technically, no,” the nurse replies. “But we do prefer it.”

“But if I’m a match…,”

“If you’re a match, and have a close relationship with the recipient, then yes, you’ll probably be able to donate.”

“There you go, then.”

“Thank you,” Marie says, hugging me again.

“I haven’t done anything yet.” I take another look at Olivia lying there on the bed completely helpless. I’m not great with needles, and I’ve never had an operation in my life. However, I’m not scared. Not when I look at Olivia.

“Where do I go?” I ask the nurse.

“Follow me,” he replies. We head to the blood lab on the far side of the hospital. The nurse has a word with a colleague and gets me to the front of the line.

It’s over in seconds, but the results won’t be ready for hours. The doctors have prioritized Olivia’s case and are working as fast as they can. That comes as a relief, but it also makes me panic. This must be urgent. Olivia is seriously ill and time might be a factor.

I rush back to Olivia’s room and find her in the same condition, except this time her father is sitting next to the bed looking terrified and helpless.

I don’t say anything. I just take a seat on the other side of the bed and hold her other hand. Now we wait.

“Thanks for coming.”

I look up at Parker. It’s the first words he’s spoken in the two hours we’ve been here.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

Marie continues pacing up and down the room like she’s been doing almost continuously this entire time. “How much longer do we have to wait?” she asks, impatiently. “The doctor said he’d be back in an hour, and that was ninety minutes ago.”

The doctor said Olivia was ‘stable,’ but also said that he didn’t know what was wrong with her, so there’s only so much comfort I can take from that. They still think it’s biliary hypoplasia. It’s a rare disease, but it’s not life-threatening if she can get a donor. It’s also not hereditary, so Parker should be able to donate part of his liver without any problems.

“You don’t have to stay,” Parker says. “We can call you if—”

“Parker, I’m not going anywhere.”

Parker stares at me for a few seconds and then nods, before turning his attention back to Olivia. I do the same. It’s wrong seeing her like this. Even when she’s sleeping she has a constant smile on her face, as if she’s getting up to mischief in her dreams. Now she looks empty, as if everything that makes her special has disappeared.

Olivia’s been ill for weeks, but she appeared to have conquered it. The antibiotics had her almost back to her usual self. Now this.

“Mr. Kaye?”

Neither Parker nor I noticed the doctor until he was standing next to Olivia’s bed.

“Yeah,” Parker replies, groggily.

“My name is Dr. Schmidt. I’m a specialist in liver diseases and I’ve been assigned to look after Olivia.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Parker asks.

“It’s almost certainly biliary hypoplasia. I’m waiting on one more liver function test to confirm, but that is far and away the most likely diagnosis.”

“What caused it?”

“Nothing. She was born with the condition, although it isn’t thought to be hereditary. As for what triggered today’s collapse… we don’t know. Some people with biliary hypoplasia go their entire lives without losing liver function.”

“And she can be treated?”

“Yes. But she will need a liver transplant within the next month.”

This is going to be fine, I tell myself. Parker will donate part of his liver, and in a few weeks, Olivia will be back to her usual self while I tire myself out trying to keep up with her.

“I’d like to ask some questions, if I may,” Dr. Schmidt says to Parker. “Perhaps we should do this alone.”

I can’t think of any questions relating to Olivia that need to be private, but I’m also not one to question doctor’s orders.

“It’s okay,” Parker says, as I stand up. “You can stay. You too, Marie.”

The doctor hesitates, clearly not sure how to phrase the question. “You mentioned to the nurse that there were unusual circumstances behind Olivia’s birth.”

Parker nods. “Olivia’s mother died while she was still pregnant. Things were touch and go for a moment, but your people managed to save Olivia.”

Parker has an incredible ability to remain remarkably calm when talking about his wife’s death. He always says she ‘died’ instead of saying she was ‘murdered.’ Parker is a passionate man, and it still surprises me that he isn’t out there hunting for the killer every day.

“That’s unfortunate,” Dr. Schmidt says. “That the mother is dead, I mean. You see, unfortunately, Mr. Kaye, your blood type doesn’t match Olivia’s. Your blood type is AB+, whereas Olivia is O+.”

Parker clenches his fist in frustration and my world collapses in on me once again.

A silence falls on the room, until Parker has calmed down enough to talk. “Will we be able to find another donor?”

“Yes,” the doctor replies. “We have donors, however, there’s always a higher chance of success with a live donor.”

“What about me?” Marie asks.

The doctor shakes his head. “You’re AB+ as well.”

I cross my fingers.

Please let me be a match.

There’s a good chance I am. I researched blood types once for a script that I abandoned before even finishing the outline. Blood type O is the most common in the US. That’s a good thing, because only people with blood type O can donate to people with blood type O. Knowing my luck, I’ll be O- which I don’t think can donate to O+. Or is it the other way around?

“What about….” I’m about to ask whether I’m a match when I trail off, lost in a thought that’s gnawing away at the back of my mind.

“Carly?” Parker asks. “What’s wrong?”

“There must have been a mistake,” I say.

“What do you mean?”

I stare up at the doctor who looks slightly uncomfortable. I remember the most useless details. I’ve missed birthdays, anniversaries, and even an exam due to my dreadful memory, and yet the rules about passing on blood types are still lodged firmly in my brain. One rule in particular….

“Olivia can’t be blood type O,” I say. “Not if Parker is AB. If there is a type AB parent then the child can’t be type O.”

“The results are correct,” the doctor replies.

I look Parker in the eyes and swallow. “Parker, I don’t know how to say this. You’re… you’re not Olivia’s father.”