It was late by the time he pulled into the hospital’s lot. The rain-washed asphalt glowed beneath the lights as he made his away through the rows of cars and up to the main doors.

He took the elevator up to the fourth floor, glancing down at his phone to make sure he had the room number right before the doors slid open.

There was something about walking into a pediatric ward that was both inspiring and terrible. The sense of desperation in the air… but also tremendous hope. A painful kind of dichotomy, where one can’t quite exist without the other.

When Olivia had gotten sick, it had been unfathomable. She was only seven, the precious late-life surprise gift to his whole family.

His mom had married his stepfather when Carter was ten, and Bill Daniels was the only father Carter ever knew—as far as he was concerned, the only Dad he ever needed. His dad had thrown himself wholeheartedly into family life, like he did everything, and Carter, who had been withdrawn and quiet as a child, flourished under his attention.

His parents had put their energy into raising him, and once he was out of the house, they’d thought they were done raising kids. Then, when he was 25, he’d gotten a call from his mother, who had been laughing so hard it had been hard to understand what she was saying at first. Nine months later, he had a little sister.

At first, he was worried he and Olivia wouldn’t bond, since they were so far apart in age. But the second he saw her, he loved her. And he loved being a big brother to her. Olivia was the best kid—so smart and funny, and a total ham. She loved acting and singing, and she was obsessed with the idea of being on Broadway. He’d taken her to New York to see Matilda last year, and she still hadn’t stopped singing the signature tune, “Revolting Children.”

She’d been diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease last year, a genetic disease that ran on his father’ side of the family. His dad had needed a kidney transplant in his twenties, before he’d come into Carter and his mom’s lives. But when Olivia’s scans in infancy and early childhood had shown no problems, they’d hoped she had gotten lucky when it came to the genetic lottery. Then, when they found out that wasn’t the case, they hoped that the cysts on her kidneys wouldn’t grow at such a rate to send her into renal failure.

Four months of medication turned into weekly dialysis, and now they were facing the possibility of Olivia needing a kidney transplant at the tender age of seven.

Carter could feel the familiar tightness in his chest, his heart thrumming against his ribcage as he thought of his precious baby sister, who sang at the top of her lungs whenever she could and donated her allowance to a wildlife rescue in Colorado, getting sicker.

Even if the doctor’s decided a transplant was necessary, Olivia would be okay. The alternative was… well, it was impossible to think of. He couldn’t. Ever.

He loved her way too much.

As he walked down the hall toward her room, he saw his dad leaning against the wall outside it, shoulders stooped. A slight, tall man with graying hair, he had bright blue eyes that were almost always smiling—until now. Carter towered over him—and had for so many years it was hard to remember when he didn’t. On the mantel of his parents’ living room fireplace, there was a framed photo of them both from Carter’s high school years, showing off for the camera, bench-pressing his grinning dad. His mother always said it was her favorite photo of the two of them.

“Dad,” he called quietly.

His father looked up, his face breaking into a tired smile. “Hey, son,” he said.

“Is she asleep?” he asked, nodding toward the door.

“And your mother, too, for once,” he said.

Carter looked him up and down. His clothes were rumpled and wrinkled, like he’d slept in them. He wondered when was the last time either of his parents had slept in a real bed. He couldn’t blame them—he’d sleep at the hospital too if he thought the nurses would let him (he’d asked, they wouldn’t). But he worried.

All he did was worry, he realized… it was the undercurrent of his family’s days now. Even when he was absorbed in something else, like the move and his distracting new hire, the worry simmered inside, the fear eating away at him.

“Let’s go get you something to eat in the cafeteria,” Carter suggested. “You look like you could use some coffee.”

“Yeah,” his dad said, yawning. “That… that sounds good.”

In the cafeteria, Bill got a table while Carter went and got the food. Once they were seated, and his dad had taken a long sip of coffee, he let out a long sigh.

“Thanks, Carter,” he said. “I needed this.”

“I know Mom wasn’t into the idea of bringing people in the house to help out,” Carter said. “But, Dad, it’s time. I stopped by the house, and there are two weeks of newspapers on the porch. Please, let me hire someone to take care of errands, make sure the house is clean, and the fridge is stocked. I can have someone prep meals and bring them to the hospital for all of you, even.” It had been what he had wanted to do the second Olivia had been diagnosed, but his mom prided herself on keeping her home—and her life—running smoothly. She’d refused his gentle offers and he hadn’t wanted to push, since she was under such a terrible burden.

“I know you’re right,” Bill sighed. “I know… I just…” he stared down at his burger, and Carter’s stomach clenched as he watched his father, always so strong, always so cheerful, always so cheerful, tear up. “I don’t know what to do, son,” he confessed in a hushed voice.

“Did something happen today?” Carter asked. “Did Olivia have another episode or …”

“They assessed her today. For the transplant,” his dad explained.

“That’s good though, right?” Carter asked. “That means she needs to get on the list, she’ll get on it faster.”

“Normally, that’s the case,” his father said. “But she’s got an infection in her lungs. Apparently her immune system’s been compromised, and when we brought her into the hospital this time, the infection set in. They can’t even think about a transplant until the infection clears up. But her little body… it’s fighting hard, Carter. She’s fighting so hard. But her immune system, the dialysis, all the meds… that’s all working against us. She has to fight off the infection, but her body’s weak already. And even once she kicks the infection, she still has to be matched with a suitable donor. That can take time.”

Carter clenched his teeth, refusing to think about what might happen if Olivia didn’t find a suitable donor in time. “I’ll talk to her doctors,” he assured his father. “I know you can’t donate and Mom isn’t a match, but I haven’t been tested yet. Now that we’re at the transplant stage, I’ll get it done immediately. If I can do a direct donation to her, that solves the problem of waiting on the donor list. And if I’m not a match, there are still things we can do. Kidney-paired donation—I can donate a kidney to someone else whose donor is a match for Olivia and gives her their kidney, and everyone is happy. I’ve read all about it, happens all the time. I’m sure Dr. Rhodes is well versed in the process. She is the best.”

“Carter,” his father reached out, grasping his hand across the table, more tears shining in his eyes. “You would do that?”

Carter was surprised he even had to ask. “I will do anything to make sure Olivia is okay, Dad,” he said. “I’ll even buy her a damn kidney if I have to.”

“Don’t joke about that,” his father said, his eyes widening.

Carter smiled. “Sorry, Dad.”

His dad was a good man, if a bit naive. He believed in the best of people. Carter admired this, but his life and personality certainly hadn’t made him the same way. They were very different people, he and his father. He saw a lot of his Bill in Olivia, though, and not just in their bright blue eyes. It was also in the way she wanted to see the bright side of everything. Part of that was the fact that she was seven, but she’d gone through enough pain and in her short life to make even the cheeriest child fearful. But even when Olivia was so sick she could barely lift her head up off the bed, she was still cracking jokes and couldn’t wait to get back to tap dance class.

The resilience of children was truly remarkable. His little sister was an amazing girl. And he was going to do everything it took to make sure she grew up to be a healthy, happy woman.

He had paid one of the pre-eminent pediatric kidney specialists in the country enough money to buy an island to leave her job at Johns Hopkins to come to Portland and treat Olivia. He was incredibly fortunate to be able to do that, and he knew it. But he hadn’t told either of his parents how he’d gotten Dr. Rhodes to Portland—or what he’d done to get that much cash at a time when his assets weren’t very liquid. It was better off them not knowing. They had enough stress. They would worry more if they thought about how much money he’d spent. Six months after giving up those shares, his new line of toys released, and business boomed like never before. Nowadays, money—any amount—wasn’t an issue.

He didn’t regret what he’d done, even though the Palmers were a pain in his ass. Dr. Rhodes had been crucial to Olivia’s treatment plan. But he knew if his parents knew he’d leveraged part of his company to get Olivia better medical care, they’d feel incredibly guilty, and he didn’t want that.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told his father, squeezing his hand. “I’m home now.”

“I hate putting this on you,” he started to say, but Carter shook his head, cutting him off.

“You chose me, Dad,” he said, citing the little mantra that had carried him through his life, those times as a kid when he was taunted for looking nothing like his father, that stretch of years where there was just him and his mom. “And I chose you. You carried me. Now it’s time to let me carry you.”

“I am very proud of you,” his father said in a choked voice.

Carter smiled, and they sat there together, the hours ticking by as they waited, that sense of hope twined with desperation settling over them.