Cali reached to accept the cup of bitter coffee from the school administrator who was trying to make herself useful to the parents crowded into the hospital waiting room. In fairness, the representatives from the school were as upset as the other loved ones waiting for updates on their children.

The group had just finished listening to an informal update from the local police chief with more details of what had happened. There were still a lot of unanswered questions, but it appeared the driver of a semi-truck had lost control of his rig and rear-ended the stopped school bus, pushing the bus through a downed crossing guard and into the path of a speeding commuter train. The bus driver had been pronounced dead on the scene, and the most seriously injured children had been seated in the front of the bus where the impact occurred, but since the bus had flipped to its side, all the children had been injured in some way. Cali held onto the hope Andi had been sitting closer to the back. They hadn’t announced any children had died... yet.

She sat with her eyes glued to the door of the waiting room, not sure if she was praying for Nick to arrive first or a doctor with an update from the surgery. Andi had been in the operating room for over three hours with no word on her condition. Cali told herself no news was good news, yet she’d noticed several of the families had already collected their banged-up children and were starting to leave. With each departure, the group waiting got more solemn as they were the families of the more seriously injured.

When Cali finally spotted Nicholas rushing down the long hallway toward the glass door to the waiting room, she almost fainted with relief. She’d only known Andrea for a short time, but she already loved Nick’s daughter. She couldn’t even imagine the fear Nick must be feeling with his only child in danger.

Cali ran to the door to meet him. They fell into each other’s arms, hugging each other so tightly, they were both short of breath, the sobs she had been valiantly holding back bubbling over.

“I am so sorry, Nick. I didn’t do a very good job taking care of Andi for you.”

He pulled back so he could see her eyes. She saw terror there.

“Why are you sorry? Do you have news I don’t know? Is she....?”

“No! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I’m still waiting for the doctor to come find me after surgery. It’s just that...”

He cut her off. “Stop. This isn’t your fault, Cali. This would have happened if I’d been in town, too. Not another word about you not taking care of Andi. You got the school’s call and made sure to reach me. You’ve been here, waiting.”

“A lot of good it did. They only let me see her briefly, and she wasn’t even conscious.”

They’d barely moved into the room when a young doctor in blue scrubs came in and asked, “Is the family of Andrea Mikos here?”

They were holding hands, and he pulled her back toward the door with him as he answered. “Yes, I’m her father. How is my baby girl?”

The doctor glanced around the room full of other families and elected to move them to another location. “Let’s step across the hall into the consultation room. We’ll have more privacy there.”

Nick squeezed Cali’s hand so hard, it was cutting off the circulation, but she didn’t mind. She knew he was thinking the same thing. Why would they need to relocate if the news was good? The tension in the tiny room was thick. The doctor looked nervous, another bad sign.

“I’m Doctor Adams, and I operated on Andrea today. It was a long surgery as we had to do some exploration once we were in the OR. I’m not going to lie. Andrea is going to have a few rough days ahead of her, but I have every expectation she’s going to come through okay.”

“Oh thank God.” Nick pulled Cali into his arms for a hug they both needed. Relief coursed through Cali at the news Andrea was alive and expected to recover.

The doctor gave them a minute before he continued with his report.

“As I understand it, Andrea was sitting near the front of the bus where some of the more seriously injured students were located. She was unconscious when she was brought in, and her vital signs were plummeting quickly which usually indicates internal bleeding. We didn’t have time to do a CT scan or other tests, so I took her into surgery immediately to find the root cause of her bleeding.”

The doctor took a short break to look at his buzzing cell phone before continuing with his update. “I’m afraid I had to remove her spleen. It was badly damaged in the collision. She also has several cracked ribs, but they should heal quickly in a child her age, and her ribs didn’t puncture her lungs which is always a concern with impact collisions. Andrea also had a small laceration to her liver I repaired.”

“Oh my God, that sounds so serious. What’s the prognosis with her losing her spleen?” Nick pressed for answers.

“We’re starting her on antibiotics right away, and she’ll most likely need to stay on them for some time. A person without a spleen will always be more prone to infection than average, but she should recover fully from all of those injuries. She did lose enough blood we had to give her blood transfusions during the surgery and will most likely do one more in a couple of hours. With all the trauma’s coming in, I’m afraid we were a bit short on Andrea’s blood type.”

“I’d like to donate my blood for her if possible.”

“Of course. That would be good since we’re running short although we won’t be able to use your blood until it goes through the normal processing. Still, it’ll be good to get some on standby in case she needs more in a few days. I’ll have a nurse come and cross-check your blood types after we’re finished talking.”

“If you’re running short on blood,” Cali broke in, “I’m happy to donate too.”

“Great. I’ll have you both setup then. I’m afraid I haven’t finished my update though.”

Nick and Cali looked at each other nervously before letting the doctor continue his report.

“As I said, Andrea was unconscious when they brought her in. She has a large contusion on her left temple and a pretty deep cut on her left shoulder. She has significant swelling of her brain, and I’m electing to keep her sedated for at least the next twenty-four hours to give her body time to heal and the swelling to come down. The CT scan doesn’t show any major brain damage, so I have every reason to believe she’ll be cognitively healthy once she recovers, but as with most head injuries, we won’t know for sure until she regains consciousness, and we can do more tests.”

“Wait, so she’s going to be unconscious for at least the next twenty-four hours?” Cali blurted the question, then looked at Nick to see if he was angry she was injecting on behalf of his daughter. She shouldn’t have worried. He looked relieved she’d asked.

“Yes, keeping her sedated will give her brain time to recover from the trauma. With a concussion this severe, she’ll need several weeks to truly recover.”

“When can we see her, doctor?” Nick was squeezing her hand tightly again.

“She’s still in post-op. She’ll be there for another hour or two, then we’ll move her to the pediatric ICU. You’ll be able to see your daughter once they get her settled there.” The doctor stood, making ready to leave. He turned from the door to address them.

“I know parents don’t expect to have their children injured like this when they send them off to school in the morning, but all things considered, Andrea was lucky today. From what I’ve seen of some of the other children they brought in, it could have been even worse. I’ll come check in with you up in the ICU later, Mr. and Mrs. Mikos.”

He opened the door and was gone before they could correct him on his assumption that Cali was Nick’s wife. Nick sat so still, she worried he’d gone into shock. She tried to cup his face, but he was in a trance. Cali moved to his lap, snuggling tight against him as they sat in silence, comforting each other for several long minutes until a nurse stuck her head in.

“Mr. and Mrs. Mikos? Dr. Adams asked me to take you down to have your blood drawn. If you’d follow me, please, I’ll take you to the lab.”

They followed the nurse, and once in the elevator, Cali quietly corrected the nurse. “I’m not Mrs. Mikos. I’m not Andi’s mom, but I’d still like to donate blood for anyone else who might need it.”

“I’m sorry.” The nurse looked embarrassed for her false assumption. “Is Andrea’s mother on her way here then?”

Nick answered, his voice harsh. “Her mother is dead.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Nick pulled Cali close before answering, “Don’t be sorry.”

They were led to a small room with several tall stools often seen in blood labs. A phlebotomist greeted them, and they spent several minutes filling out paperwork. It took only twenty minutes for them both to finish and be led back up to the waiting room closest to the pediatric ICU. There were several other parents already waiting there, and Nick was upset to find the parents of Andi’s best friend, Katie there. The girls had been seated on the bus together so it made sense they’d both suffered similar injuries. Like Andi, Katie was expected to recover, but in addition to a concussion, she had a broken arm and several deep cuts.

It was two hours later when a nurse came to collect Nick for his first visit with his daughter. Cali wasn’t sure if they would let her in, but Nick wouldn’t hear of leaving her behind.

Andi looked so fragile. She was pale, and they had her under a heating blanket to keep her warm. She had a large bandage on her head as well as her left shoulder. They couldn’t see the bandages from the surgery, but that was probably for the best. The sound of the monitoring system she was attached to was strangely comforting to Cali, knowing it would alert the nurses to any emergency. Nick had pulled the sole chair next to the bed to take her tiny hand in his own when the blood pressure cuff on her right arm filled to take her blood pressure.

“Daddy’s here, baby.” Tears streamed down Nick’s face as he talked to his daughter. “Everything’s going to be okay. You just need to sleep for a while to let your body heal. The doctor says you’re gonna be as good as new. Cali is here with me. We’re gonna be right here when you wake up. I’m not going to leave until I can take you home with me.”

She could tell he was trying his best to keep his voice strong for Andi’s sake. Neither of them knew if she could hear them, but they talked to her, nonetheless.

Minutes stretched to hours as they ran out of things to talk to Andi about. The drone of the machines monitoring the patient was the only sound as they kept their watch on the little girl they both loved.

Cali observed Nick closely. She knew he was on the edge. Eventually, they both needed to eat something and take a break. It took her several attempts to convince him he needed to step away long enough to at least grab some coffee. Cali knew it took all of Nick’s strength to leave Andi behind in that bed without him there.

They were walking hand-in-hand by the nursing station in the middle of the unit when Andi’s doctor looked up from the chart he was writing in and stopped them. He looked uncomfortable as if he had bad news.

“Mr. Mikos, if you have a minute, I’d like to speak with you about your daughter.”

“Of course. Do you have any news about how long you’ll be leaving her sedated? I’m anxious to have her wake up.”

“That’s understandable, but it’s best for her to get past the worst of the pain while sedated. She’s going to be in significant discomfort when she wakes up.”

“Damn, I hadn’t really thought of that. You’re right.”

Dr. Adams led them to an isolated alcove and paused before he asked a question that confused Cali. “I wanted to ask you how old Andrea was when you adopted her?”

“Andi wasn’t adopted. What makes you think that she was?”

The doctor looked back and forth between them, looking more uncomfortable by the minute. He finally continued. “We, of course, have to do blood type cross matching before every transfusion. Your daughter is a type O- which is actually a pretty common blood type.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes, except she’s only able to accept blood from other type-O donors.”

“Okay. So is that a problem? I’m not sure what type I am.”

“You’re a type AB, Mr. Mikos. That’s a very rare type, and I’m afraid we won’t be able to use your blood for your daughter. It’ll be added to the blood bank.”

Nick looked disappointed. “That’s fine. She must have gotten her blood type from her mother then.”

“Perhaps, it’s just... well I’m not sure how to tell you this. I know you’ve already received a lot of bad news today, but I feel it important to tell you that based on the blood work, there’s no possible way you could be Andrea’s biological father.”