Chapter One
“Dr. Forbes to ER STAT.”
The voice boomed over the hospital speaker system at the same time his pager buzzed. It was a Friday night in Edmonds, Washington, and there was no time for rest, with traumas pouring in through the double doors.
Kian was a trauma surgeon, and he loved the knowledge that he was capable of saving a life other doctors couldn’t. And when it came to the kids, he had an extrawide soft spot. Yes, he’d seen enough trauma to last a lifetime, but the hope that he could save one more child kept him moving forward.
Kian swept through the corridors of the hospital as he thought about the fact that he was grateful to only work the night shift once a month. He’d paid his dues on nights and now enjoyed only being called in for special cases, but there was nothing that got his blood pumping more than a code-three ambulance coming through the doors. It wasn’t uncommon for the ER physician to consult with the surgeons, especially in cases of trauma.
Kian screeched to a halt in the entrance to the busy ER as he glanced at the heavy commotion of hospital staff scurrying to and fro as patients rushed through the hospital doors. For a weekend night in suburban Seattle, this was nothing new. When he scanned the trauma bay, his heart lodged in his throat. Kian found a very pregnant woman lying on a stretcher covered in red as a highly capable staff did all they could to help her. Her clothes had been cut off, and it was difficult to see any area of her body that wasn’t blood soaked, making it impossible to identify her.
A crime scene would have been less gory than what was before Kian. He quickly assessed the room. Detectives? Check. Gore? Check. Cries of pain? Double check.
On a stretcher next to the pregnant woman was a young girl—three, maybe four. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her frail body was covered in blood. Nurses worked efficiently to place her on the monitors and assess her for life-threatening wounds.
“We have a twenty-eight-year-old female, seven months pregnant, with approximately fifteen to eighteen stab wounds in the chest, neck, and abdomen. Blood pressure is 76/52, heart rate is 133, oxygen saturation is 82 percent, and we are bagging her while we prepare for intubation,” a nurse called out. Kian nodded.
“Also, her three-year-old daughter, multiple stab wounds in the arm, back, and head, bleeding is controlled and her vitals are stable.” The last part of her words came out slightly choked, and she had to clear her throat before she continued.
“The baby’s heartbeat is one hundred and dropping, and we’re having a hard time controlling mom’s bleeding. We are transfusing blood now, but it may not be enough. We need to get her into the OR ASAP.”
Without conscious thought, Kian was already getting to work, grabbing gloves and continuing to assess the progress the team was making. He noticed the new ER physician trying to maintain a grasp on the situation, but the man seemed overwhelmed. It was understandable.
“We need the NICU team and the neonatologist in the OR now in case this baby is viable,” Kian said with sharpened focus.
“We did a fast scan that shows significant internal bleeding including lacerated liver, right hemothorax, and possible cardiac tamponade. We’re also putting pressure on her left carotid artery, which has been lacerated. She has two sixteen-gauge IVs and an IO in place. We have two units of blood infusing now, and she’s on her third liter of fluid,” the ER doctor said, sounding exhausted as he prepared for intubation.
“It’s not enough, we need to get her into the OR and open her up,” Kian replied. The ER doctor nodded as Kian turned toward the OR to prep for surgery.
Just then, the woman gasped, and he felt her fingers gripping his arm. He stopped, tuning out all the sounds around him as he looked into the woman’s face. She was staring at him, and there was something so familiar about her eyes. He was trying to put it all together, but it was just on the edges of his memory.
“Kian . . .” The word came from her mouth in a gurgle of blood, a mere whisper that might as well have been a shout.
He leaned down. His brows furrowed as he tried to recognize this battered woman. Why did it feel as if he were suddenly in a tunnel? The world felt as if it was slowly shrinking in on him, and he didn’t know why.
“Kian,” she said again, and he leaned in even farther as a nurse tried to stop him. He wasn’t wearing enough protective gear, and she was openly bleeding. He didn’t care. For some reason he didn’t understand, he needed to hear whatever it was she needed to say.
As he drew nearer, he realized he recognized this woman. Pamela. She was Roxie’s sister, and he’d foolishly spent one night with her when he was at an all-time low in his life. He’d regretted it instantly and had avoided her ever since. But now that she was on his table, guilt filled him at his behavior.
“I’m here,” he told her, coming out of his own head to focus on her instead.
“She’s your daughter, Kian. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I messed up in a real bad way this time,” she said, her words so quiet no one else in the room could have possibly heard her.
Kian felt as if his heart had lodged in his throat as her stilted, pained words processed in his brain.
“My child?” he questioned as he looked down at her stomach. They’d been together four years ago. A pregnancy certainly didn’t last that long.
“No. Lily,” the woman gasped. Kian could see she was fading quickly, and she had just stated words that could literally change his life forever. This had to be a mistake. Still, he found his head swiveling for just a moment toward the small child across the room whom the staff were frantically working on.
“Pam . . .” he said on a sigh. He was desperate as he gripped her hand, her fingers slowly loosening on him. She was letting go, and he wanted to shake her.
“You and Roxie need to raise her. She’s yours now, and this baby, too, if she makes it.”
Kian opened his mouth to speak when her fingers went limp and her eyes rolled back in her head. He was in such shock, he froze for what had to be only a fraction of a second. At least the nursing staff was more alert than he was.
“We’re losing her. Asystole. Start compressions.” Kian needed to save this woman. He needed to get more answers and know if she was telling him the truth about Lily being his daughter. He couldn’t think about that, though, as he tried to save her. He had to be in doctor mode.
“We need to do a pericardiocentesis now, get me the supplies.” He began moving again, more determined than ever to save Pam, to figure out exactly what was happening. He was almost afraid to look back over at the young child he’d just been told was his.
Could it be true? Sadly, he realized, there was a possibility. He had slept with Pam, even though he should never have opened that door. But how could she have possibly hidden a child from him?
He was filled with shame when he realized how easy it would be to do just that. He hadn’t thought of her once since their night together. Instead of dwelling on that, he focused on trying to save her so she could talk to him more.
As Kian finished his procedure, he expected her to regain her heartbeat, but it was fruitless, even though the tireless staff continued the chest compressions.
“We can’t pick up the baby’s heartbeat. If we can’t save Mom, then at least let’s try to save the baby,” Nurse Ridgley said in a moment of clarity.
Kian didn’t want to admit she was right, not at all, but he knew Pamela wasn’t savable, not with her injuries. They were pumping her heart, but she was already gone. He had to shake off the almost-inconsolable grief and try to save her unborn child.
The focus in the trauma bay changed immediately as they prepped for an emergency C-section. Kian placed the scalpel to Pamela’s belly and made an incision that he could have done with his eyes closed. Intently focused, he reached in and pulled out a lifeless newborn. The background noise of the trauma bay seemed to dim to a hush. Kian placed the baby on the table and attempted futile resuscitation for what seemed like an eternity.
Pamela lay still on the stretcher, her eyes shut, and Kian cradled her three-pound infant in his arms for just a moment before laying her against Pam’s chest, both of them completely motionless.
“Please cover them,” Kian said as he turned away. Nurse Ridgley quickly did as he asked. This was the part of his job he couldn’t stand. It didn’t matter how many times he lost a patient, even if that patient hadn’t started out as his, he would always question himself, always wonder if there was more he could have done. And in this case, he had a feeling he’d be doing a lot of soul-searching, and hitting the books on any procedure that could have saved this family—his possible family. He looked over to where his only surviving patient lay still on her stretcher. The detectives had confirmed that the child’s name was indeed Lily, and said they’d called her only surviving relative—her aunt, Roxie.
In the past few minutes, he’d heard her name twice. Once from Pam’s lips and once from the detectives. It had sent a pang through him both times. Roxie. The only woman he’d ever loved. And now he’d see her again. He wasn’t ready for any of this. So, he shook his head and pushed her from his mind.
Though he wanted to run and hide, wanted to think Pamela’s last words had been delivered in a delirious uttering of nonsensical sentences, as he gazed at the young girl, he knew she was his. He just didn’t know how to process that, or how to understand what he was going to do about it. For now, though, he knew he had to help her, had to be at her side.
Finally, he moved, stepping up to the stretcher as he ran his fingers through her soft brown hair. She was still as he held in the tears desperately wanting to escape in a show of the powerful emotion he was feeling.
“Lily, I’m so sorry,” he softly whispered.
Kian was startled when her eyes flew open. She’d been given enough meds to keep her asleep for a long while, but obviously she had the endurance of her mother and aunt. Her injuries could have easily taken her life. He had always loved a fighter.
Kian reached for her small fingers, and she grasped on to him and held on tightly. Her grip made him happy. He didn’t know how to tell this child what had occurred on this horrible night. He didn’t want to be the one to utter those fateful words. Where in the hell was the social worker?
“We need to get you to your room so you’ll start feeling better,” Kian said quietly as he raised his free hand and again pushed back her delicate brown hair. She blinked at him but didn’t say anything.
Kian tried pulling his hand from Lily’s, but she let out a heartbreaking sob and held on tighter, her eyes growing wider. His heart stopped beating at the pain of that sound.
“Dr. Forbes, we need to move her now,” his favorite nurse, Stephanie, said.
“I’ll go with her,” he told the nurse. She nodded and smiled. The entire staff knew his job meant more to him than stitching someone up and forgetting them. He’d have moved a lot farther up the evolutionary chain of medicine if that had been his main focus. But Kian didn’t have to worry about that. He wasn’t interested in titles.
Carefully easing himself onto the edge of the bed, he kept his hand entwined in Lily’s, and the nurse pushed the stretcher out of the surgical suite and down the hall to the elevators. Lily didn’t take her eyes off him until they came into the children’s ICU.
Lily still didn’t let him go as she was transferred to a bed and set up for the night. Someone offered to take Kian’s place, but when Lily whimpered again, Kian knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
She was his daughter. The thought was both terrifying and humbling. She was his daughter, and he’d already lost three precious years with her. He was too broken in this moment to feel anger over the situation. All he felt was a heartbreaking sorrow that he wasn’t sure would ever go away.
“Lily,” he whispered as he finally allowed a tear to escape his burning eye. One fell, and then he firmed his face, never looking away from his sleeping daughter. He wasn’t a weak man and wouldn’t allow himself to break now. This child needed him. She needed him and Roxie. He just wasn’t sure how well that was going to go for either of them.
A lot had happened, and it seemed that before this night was over, a storm would brew and burst open. He might need to rest before Roxie Gilbert walked back into his life. He wondered if she was aware of what had happened, of the fact that Lily was his daughter. He somehow doubted it.
Kian laid his head down on the bed next to hers, his fingers still lightly clasped in her small hand, and he closed his eyes. He blanked his mind of all thoughts, something he’d learned to do when he’d only been able to manage two-hour naps after thirty-six hours straight of school and work. He couldn’t do his best if he couldn’t refresh his body. Hopefully when he woke, this would have all been nothing but a nightmare.
It was a thought that put a small smile on his lips as he drifted to sleep beside his daughter.