SEVENTEEN
The following morning, I learned that Jayden’s gift to me was more personal than a vehicle.
He’d secured a surgery date for my vascular repair, and it hadn’t been easy, as he explained over breakfast.
“I couldn’t get them to look at your recovery evidence,” Jayden seethed. “I’d had gone before a panel of my peers—the ones who usually get me to sign off their referral requests—and they all insisted you weren’t a good candidate for the procedure. I was furious. It was like they’d never learned to look at the whole picture. I think I should have the right to determine who is a good candidate for a procedure I helped pioneer. Anyhow, they’ve backed my proposal now. We’ll give it a shot.”
“What exactly is the procedure?” I asked.
“Daddy’s going to pull on your heart using magnets
