I sing Christmas songs while I work, my shop decked out for the season. I have mini Christmas trees covered in lights sprinkled around, and mistletoe hanging from every beam in the ceiling. My oil-burner behind the counter wafts out a sweet cinnamon scent. I feel like one of Santa’s elves.

There’s been a smile on my face all morning. Tom made me a lunch to take to work today, and I was touched. We’ve gone from being haphazardly thrown together to finding our stride. It all feels so right.

“Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la, la la, la la.”

My cell rings. I see it’s Tom, and a smile jumps across my face. Sometimes he calls me in the middle of the day, asking if there’s anything I want from the grocery store, or offering to take me out to lunch. I always look forward to hearing his voice no matter what the reason.

I answer with a sing-song, “Hell-o!”

Tom’s voice is grave on the end of the line. “Zoe, it’s Laura. She’s taken a turn for the worse.”

I switch off the radio and give Tom my full attention. My heart is frozen in my chest like someone’s squeezing it tightly. How can she be worse? She was getting so much better.

“What happened?”

“A blood clot.”

“What?”

“DVT. The blood clot traveled to her lung. She’s had a pulmonary embolism.”

“Oh, my God.”

“They’re giving her warfarin now. They’re hoping it will be enough to break down the clot.”

“And if it’s not?”

“We’ll face that hurdle when we come to it. The important thing is that they caught it early.”

“What should we do about the kids?”

“They finish in half an hour. Do you want to come with us?”

“Of course, I do.”

“I’ll head over to you now, and we’ll go get the kids.”

“I’ll close up.”

“See you in ten.”

Tom hangs up, and I’m left in a state of shock. Poor Laura. I sink down against the counter and draw my knees up to my chest, squeezing my eyes shut. My head is spinning with the news. Laura’s come so far to be hit with a new disaster. And what about the kids?

I know there’s no time for me to panic, so I pick myself up, brush off my clothes and begin switching off the lights. That part of me that comes alive in a crisis kicks in, and I’m able to control my emotions.

Still, I say a little prayer for Laura inside my head. Please let her be okay.

Tom arrives moments later, and I step into his car. He steps on the gas and spins us toward the school.

He looks over at me from the steering wheel. His expression is tense. He reaches out to give my hand a squeeze. “Ready?”

I give a little nod. “I can’t believe this has happened. She’s been fine for weeks.”

“Blood clots are common after major surgeries. She’s stuck in one position all the time. She was at a higher risk. She’s unlucky that it broke off. Thank God the staff were keeping a close eye on her.”

“Any news on if the meds are working?”

Tom shakes his head. “We’ll find out when we get there.”

We arrive at the school, and Tom pulls up in his usual spot. A short while later, Megan and Jack emerge. Megan has her hand on Jack’s upper back, guiding him toward the car as he waves goodbye to friends over his shoulder.

She steps into the car and immediately frowns. “What are you doing here, Aunt Zoe? Your store doesn’t close for another hour and a half.”

“It’s your, Mom, Meg.”

Megan’s expression falters. Jack’s head snaps up, his eyes growing round and worried. Megan puts her arm around him protectively and lifts her chin. “What happened?”

“She developed a blood clot. It’s traveled to her lung.”

Tom looks back over his shoulder to comfort her. “They’ve found it early, and they’re already working to break it down.”

“What happens if they can’t?”

Tom lifts his gaze to the mirror to catch Megan’s eyes. “That won’t happen.”

Jack looks up at me fearfully. “Is Mom going to be okay?”

I nod. “Yes, sweetie.”

“I thought she was getting better.” Megan’s voice comes out in a frightened whisper.

I reach out and squeeze her shoulder. “She has been, and she’s going to continue to get better.”

Megan’s eyes brim with tears, and she shakes her head. “You don’t know that.”

“Come on now, Meg. This is your mother we’re talking about. She’s come this far, hasn’t she? She’ll pull through this, too. Your Uncle Tom says this is a common complication after surgery.”

“That’s right,” Tom agrees. “It happens all the time. She’s in the right place for treatment.”

I glance over at him and see the fear I feel reflected in his own eyes. Sure, Laura’s a fighter, but how many blows can one woman take?

Tom gets us to the hospital in record time, and we trace the now familiar path to Laura’s room.

She’s still in her bed, but she doesn’t look healthy. Her skin is grey, her lips blue. She’s clutching her chest. She’s coughing, making her body jolt in a way that makes me wince. What if she damages her back?

A doctor and a nurse are monitoring her fervently. At a wave of the doctor’s hand, more medics file in and begin to move Laura’s bed, wheeling her away. She’s gasping for breath. I touch her arm as they roll her past; she’s ice-cold.

I turn back over my shoulder. “Megan, honey, maybe you and Jack should step outside.”

Megan stays still, her hands on Jack’s shoulders, and shakes her head. “I don’t want the sugar-coated version of what’s going on here. I want to know the truth.”

Tom catches the doctor before he can follow the others out. He grabs his arm and begs for an explanation. “Please, Doctor, tell us what’s happening.”

The doctor comes to a still. He looks tired and worried. Not a reassuring look.

“The clot is large and is blocking an important vessel. If it isn’t removed, it could be life-threatening. We've tried a range of anticoagulants to break down the clot, and nothing is working. She’s gone into shock, and if we don’t act now, the consequences could be fatal.”

Megan pulls Jack toward her and begins to cry.

“What are you going to do?” Tom asks, panic-stricken.

“We’re taking her to surgery. We want to remove this clot as quickly as possible or else risk permanent damage. Our biggest concern is oxygen deprivation. If we don’t get that clot out of her immediately, the damage could be irreversible.”

Tom nods gravely. “Do whatever you need to save her.”

The doctor leaves, only pausing to lay his hand on Tom’s shoulder. Then the four of us are left alone.

I look up to Tom helplessly. I’m lost. I don’t know what to do.

He’s the one to make the call. He clears his throat. “I think we should wait for more news at home. Laura’s going to be in surgery for a while, and then she’ll need to rest.” He turns to me. “What do you think?”

I nod. “I agree. Let’s wait for news at home.”

Megan stamps her foot down, her eyes filling with angry tears. “No! I don’t want to leave her here alone.”

I approach her and try to take her shoulders. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing we can do for her here.”

She shrugs me off. “And what if she dies in surgery? We won’t be here!”

“She’s not going to die, sweetheart.”

“You don’t know that! Why do you keep acting like you know what’s going to happen? You don’t know.”

I glance at Tom. He looks as torn as I do.

I place my hand on Megan’s shoulder again. This time, she doesn’t shrug me off. I guide her out the room, Tom and Jack follow.

I put my arm around her. “I know how hard this is and how much you want to be here for your mom. If you really want to stay, I’ll wait with you.”

Megan shakes her head. Her voice is defeated. “No. Let’s go home. Neither of you want to be here.”

My eyes fill with tears at her words. I know she’s lashing out because she’s afraid, but her words terrify me. What if Laura doesn’t make it?

It’s ten p.m., and Megan hasn’t left her room since we got back from the hospital.

Tom and I are sitting next to each other on the sofa. The TV is playing in the background, but neither of us is watching. We’re just trying to fill the silence while we wait.

“We should check on Meg,” I say. “Maybe she’ll be ready to talk by now. I’ll go.”

I rise from the sofa and head upstairs. I reach Megan’s door and knock softly. There’s no reply. I knock a little louder. “Megan?”

I hesitate for a moment. I don’t want to wake her if she’s sleeping. My protective instincts win out, and I push the door inward a couple of inches, peering in. The lights are out. I strain my ears to listen for the sound of Megan sleeping. I can’t hear anything.

I switch on the lights.

Megan’s not there. Her bed covers are thrown back, her closet door open, clothes on the floor. I drop to the floor and look under the bed as if she’s hiding there. I check inside the closet.

When I’m convinced she’s not in her room, I race to the bathroom. It’s unlocked and open with nobody inside.

Next, I race to Jack’s room. He’s alone and sleeping soundly. I check Laura’s room. No sign of her.

I dash back down the stairs, breathless by the time I reach the living room. Tom looks up, and his face grows concerned when he sees my expression.

He sits up. “What’s wrong?”

“Megan’s not here.”

“What?”

“She’s not in the house. I can’t find her.”

Tom jumps to his feet and searches the house. We look everywhere. Her cell, purse, and favorite pair of ankle boots are missing.

“I’ll call her.” He dials Megan’s cell. “Straight to voicemail.”

“She’s turned off her cell.” My mind races with possibilities. I run my hands through my hair in a panic. “We should call Tess. She has to be with Justin.”

Nodding, Tom picks up the house phone and dials Tess’s number from memory. He speaks to her for a while, then hangs up, his face somber.

He shakes his head. “Tess says Justin is staying at his friend’s tonight. She hasn’t seen Megan.”

“The hospital.”

Tom looks up the number and dials again. I stand watching, my eyes wide, my hands clasped together under my chin. I close my eyes, praying that we’ll find her. She could be anywhere.