The clock in the waiting room read 11:47 PM. Finally, Dr. Martinez emerged from surgery, still in his scrubs, but his smile told me everything I needed to know before he even spoke.
"The surgery was successful," he said, and I felt Mikel's hand briefly squeeze my shoulder before he caught himself and pulled away. "Emma's stable. We were able to stop the internal bleeding, and the transfusion worked perfectly. Mr. Sterling's blood was indeed a perfect match."
I closed my eyes and sent up a prayer of thanks to whoever was listening. My baby was okay. My brilliant, stubborn, beautiful girl was going to be alright.
"When can we see her?" Mikel asked, his voice hoarse from exhaustion and relief.
"She's in recovery now. She should wake up within the hour, but I want to prepare you both: she'
