As we stepped into the sterile environment of the hospital, the sharp scent of antiseptic enveloped us, a stark reminder of the urgency of the situation. The beeping of machines and the distant, faint whimpers of patients in pain created a haunting symphony. My heart raced as I sank into a chair, my palms sweaty, praying fervently for Damon's recovery. My boss, sensing my distress, squeezed my hand gently, offering a flicker of solace amidst the panic. I glanced at him and at his father, noticing the worried expression written on his father's face, a mirror of the turmoil swirling within me.
Moments later, a nurse emerged from the treatment room, her expression tense.
"Can someone please get me a family member?"
She urged, her voice edged with impatience. "Please?" The urgency in her tone set my heart racing again. My mother, startled, faced the nurse, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"What do you mean? He is my son!"
She exclaimed, bewildered as she cast a glance between the nurse and my father, who looked equally perplexed.
"You're saying he's your son? But the blood types don't match,"
The nurse scoffed dismissively, turning her back on us.
A cold wave of dread washed over me, and I pressed my hand to my chest, collapsing into the chair as the weight of uncertainty bore down on me. My head throbbed, a cacophony of questions racing through my mind: What was happening? Somehow, those thoughts slipped from my lips, almost a whisper of disbelief. Before I could process it all, my mother, sensing my unravelling, moved closer to me, enfolding me in a tight embrace. That was when the dam broke, and tears streamed down my cheeks unbidden. "Your father wants a DNA test," she murmured, the reality of her confession crashing over me like a tidal wave. She looked at me, fear etched in her features, struggling for words in the silence that consumed us.
"Mum, did you cheat on Dad?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Darling, I swear to you, I've never cheated on him," she replied, her grip tightening as she fought to hold back her own tears, her sincerity palpable in the air between us.
Then an unexpected voice cut through the tension. "I'll do the blood transfusion!" Mr. Rowe suddenly announced, standing up with a sense of determination that was both startling and bewildering. A cloud of confusion settled on my parents' faces as we collectively processed this unexpected turn. Before we could question him further, the nurse ushered him inside the treatment room, leaving us in stunned silence. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as we sat there, too shocked to speak.
Minutes felt like hours until Mr Rowe emerged, a broad smile breaking the tension. "It was a success," he said, but the words felt surreal amid our lingering confusion. My gaze darted between my mother and Mr. Rowe, desperately searching for clarity, yet finding only bewilderment mirrored in their eyes. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts amidst the chaos swirling around me, but as I attempted to stand, a sudden wave of dizziness overwhelmed me. Before I could grasp what was happening, the world around me faded to black.