Chapter 397 Desperation
Chapter 397 Desperation
Mia’s POV
“How did you-?”
My mother set her plate down. Didn’t look at me right away.
“Hugo told me.”
“Hugo? What did he-”
“You called him. Three weeks ago.” She picked up her wine glass, set it back down without drinking. ” Asked him about autoimmune diseases.”
My stomach dropped. “I said it was for a friend.”
“I know what you said.”
“Mom-
“Mia, I’ve been your mother for twenty-eight years. You think I don’t know when you’re lying?”
The question hung there. Not angry. Just tired.
“I didn’t want to-“I stopped. Started again. “You were finally happy. With Hugo. I didn’t want to
ruin that.”
She looked up at me then. Her eyes were soft. “Come here.”
I didn’t move.
“Mia.”
“I’m fine here.”
“You’re not fine. Come here.”
My legs felt wrong. Like they belonged to someone else. But I stood up. Crossed the space between us.
She opened her arms and I just-
I fell into them.
The smell of her. Not perfume, Just Mom. Lavender maybe. Or just warmth. I don’t know. My face pressed into her shoulder and her hand came up, smoothing my hair back the same way she’d done with the kids an hour ago.
“You asked Hugo about the diseases,” she said quietly. “Right after seeing Kyle.”
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I nodded against her shoulder.
She was quiet for a bit. Her hand kept moving through my hair. Then: “Hugo said something else.”
I pulled back. “What?”
“About Kyle. About his-” She stopped. “About the condition.”
“What about it?”
She took a breath. “He said sometimes family members can help. With these kinds of diseases. Blood relatives.’
“Help how?”
“There are treatments. Using stem cells. From siblings or-” She paused. “Or from children.”
The words didn’t land right at first. Like they were in the wrong language.
“Wait. What?”
“The twins. As Kyle’s children. They might-” She stopped. “Their cells might be able to help his immune system. It’s not a cure. Hugo was very clear about that. But it could buy time. Maybe.”
I stared at her. “How? How would that even-”
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“I don’t understand all the science. Hugo tried to explain but-” She made a frustrated gesture. Something about cells teaching the immune system to recognize self versus other. Like resetting it. But they’d have to test first. To see if they’re compatible. If they even match.”
“Match for what?”
She didn’t answer right away. Her jaw was tight.
“Mom. Match for what?”
“Bone marrow extraction.”
The room tilted slightly. Or I did. One of us moved wrong.
“You know what that involves?” she asked.
I’d seen it on TV, Medical dramas. The needles. I always changed the channel.
“They put you under,” she said. Her voice had gone flat. Clinical. “General anesthesia. Then they take needles-long ones, hollow-and they go into the hip bones. They extract the marrow from inside.” She paused. “It’s painful. Recovery takes weeks. There are risks. Infection. Bleeding. Damage to the bone.”
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“Jesus.”
“And that’s for adults. For children—” She stopped. “For children the risks are higher.”
I stood up. Had to. Couldn’t sit anymore.
“So you’re saying-“My brain was trying to catch up. “You’re saying the twins could help Kyle. Their bone marrow could-”
“Maybe. Hugo said maybe. He was very clear. It’s not guaranteed. Even if they match, even if everything goes perfectly, there’s no promise it would work.”
“But it’s possible.”
“Possible, yes. But-”
“The twins could give him more time.”
She didn’t answer that. Just looked at me.
“I didn’t know,” I said. My voice sounded far away. “I had no idea that was even-
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“Most people don’t. It’s not something they advertise. It’s specialized. Risky. Just one option among many bad options.”
I walked to the window. The glass was cold under my hand.
“Because Hugo knew. About Kyle being sick. About this Tibetan doctor’s treatment. He put it together. Realized the friend you were asking about was Kyle.” She took a breath. “And he said if I didn’t tell you, and Kyle died, and you found out later there was something we didn’t try- stopped. “You’d never forgive me. Or yourself.”
The truth of that sat heavy.
“So now I know.”
“Now you know.”
“And I have to-“I couldn’t finish.
“You have to decide what to do with it.”
“She
I looked at her. At her face that knew mine better than anyone’s. “How am I supposed to decide that?
“I don’t know.”
“They’re five years old, Mom. Five. They can’t consent to-” My throat closed up. “They can’t
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understand what they’d be agreeing to.”
“I know.”
“And even if they could, even if I explained it perfectly-“I stopped. “They’d say yes. Of course they’d say yes.”
“Of course they would.”
“So it’s not really their choice.”
She nodded. Said nothing.
The silence stretched.
Finally I asked: “What would you do? If it was me dying. If I was the one who needed-” I stopped. ” What would you do?”
She was quiet for so long I thought she wouldn’t answer.
“I’d probably say no,” she said. “I’d hate myself for it. I’d second-guess it every day. But I’d probably say no.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re already dying in that scenario. Already gone. And using my grandchildren as-” She stopped. Shook her head. “That’s not love, Mia. That’s desperation.”
