Colorado
Near Future
Everything was perfect. She looked at her son, and she saw an angel. Every laugh, every tear, and every wrinkle he gave to her made him worth the wait. She thought she knew happiness until he redefined it. So badly, she wanted him the years before he was born. The meaning he brought to her life afterward was profound. Yet how quickly it all was torn apart by a turn too sudden. That's when everything changed.
Hannah buried her head in her hands, bursting into tears. Her husband held her close, suppressing his own emotions to comfort her as they retreated to a quiet corner of a long, sterile hallway in the busy hospital. The medical personnel hurried by, trying not to stare at the emotional pair, except for one who approached them, glancing over a clipboard in his slender, wiry hands.
"Are you Mr. and Mrs. Emerson?"
Jordan and Hannah looked up to see the silhouette of a man who towered above them, eclipsing the pale radiance of bright fluorescent light from the ceiling.
"That's us," said Jordan, revealing bloodshot eyes and a flushed face as he divulged his torment to a mere stranger.
"I'd like to talk to both of you about Ari," said his deep, booming voice.
Hannah leaned in closer to get a better look at the man who wasn't wearing scrubs or a surgeon's gown like the ones who delivered the bad news moments ago. Instead, he proudly wore a sleek black suit with glossy leather shoes and an unsettling smile that lurked within his scrawny beard. She thought he was one of the hospital's administration staff, but he seemed too different from the rest, although she couldn't say how.
"What about him?" asked Hannah, as if there was anything he could possibly say to undo what she'd just heard from her son's doctor.
"Actually, I was wondering if we could speak in private," he added, gesturing for them to join him and leave the crowded hallway.
Hannah looked at Jordan, who silently denied permission for optimism. They picked themselves up, feeling heavier, carrying the weight of the horror they faced. They trepidatiously followed the mysterious man to a different floor of the bustling building that wasn't crowded at all. It was dark and deserted, a cramped place where untidy boxes were stacked high, cluttering every available space in the hallways, and no medical staff were to be found. He led them into a dimly lit office and seated them in front of an extra wide desk as he mulled through heavy drawers filled with files, searching for the exact one he needed.
"It's my understanding that Ari's surgeon explained his comatose state," said the man, speaking gently as he pulled out a file with their son's name on it.
With an enchanting sweep of his dark, wavy hair, he looked up at them through stylish rectangular glasses perched playfully on his nose. He opened the file and carefully reviewed its contents using a long, gangly finger to steer his eyes.
"What exactly is this about?" snarled Hannah, wiping her face dampened by tears.
"My name is Dr. Gregory Hale. I work for a private medical research institution affiliated with this hospital—one that specializes in situations such as these," said the strange man. "I would like to talk to you about an opportunity for Ari."
His tone was so indifferent that it was almost disturbing. His words caused the couple to look at each other with deep apprehension, wondering what kind of opportunity could be afforded to someone in their son's critical position. Hannah tightened her shawl, suddenly growing cold from his chilling words.
"By the way, I'd like to extend my condolences. Not many people survive collisions like the one he has. He's really lucky–"
"Lucky?" she snapped. "He's in a coma!"
"Hannah!" shouted Jordan, placing a gentle hand on the shoulder of his distraught wife while using kind, emerald eyes to apologize for her disruption.
"I'm truly sorry, Mrs. Emerson. The hardest part is waiting; I know how rough that can be. Believe me," he said, stepping away from the desk to look out of a tall candescent window that illuminated half of him in the darkness.
"I'd like to offer you an option with a better prognosis."
"Why didn't the surgeon bring this up earlier?" asked Jordan, his firm voice laced with exasperation as he held a halting hand into the air.
"It's an elective surgery. Experimental, actually," he clarified. "We believe he's an excellent candidate. We think he might adapt better because of his age. Ari is 11 years old, is that correct?"
"Excuse me, what exactly do you mean by adapt?" asked Hannah.
"Unfortunately, I'm unable to answer that question, as the surgery would be contingent."
"Contingent?" She barked, her eyes springing to life. "Contingent on what?"
"On an agreement," said the doctor, handing them a folder stuffed with medical and legal paperwork so convoluted that neither could make any sense of it.
"Essentially, what we're asking for is mandatory medical checkups, your agreement that we can't be held liable if anything goes wrong, and one more thing," he said, leaning in ominously as a shadow fell over his face.
"Complete confidentiality. Absolutely no one is to know about this."
"So what you're saying is, if we agree to your terms, you can present us with the details." Added Jordan.
"Not exactly."
They both glanced at each other with eccentric confusion. What kind of medical practice would refuse to disclose the details of a medical solution? Who was this man, and what was he offering? Most importantly, why wasn't he allowed to answer their questions?
"Is any of this even legal?" asked Hannah, her puffy eyes wide with apprehension and exhaustion as she sifted through a trove of papers written in jargon.
"Well, I would hope so," he chuckled away nasally. "But I'm not a lawyer. You're welcome to speak to one of ours if you wish, but as I said, we're limited to the type of information we can discuss. I can tell you that he'd have the very best surgeons and the highest quality of medical care. The best part is that everything is completely free."
"Free?" Hannah's tone brazened as the shock of what she was hearing catapulted her to the edge of her seat. "There's obviously a catch."
"Like I said, the choice is yours."
Choice? What choice? She wondered. He wasn't presenting an option to choose from. There was nothing she wouldn't do for her son, but what she was hearing didn't feel right. Then again, she could hardly tell the difference, even through the weight of exhaustion after spending far too many hours in a waiting room.
They couldn't think as rationally as they would've otherwise, held hostage by crippling emotions. They were vulnerable and caught off guard, riddled with uncertainty and fear, standing before the most significant decision of their lives in the worst circumstance imaginable.
Everything they needed to weigh their choices hung on a bank of information they weren't told. Then suddenly, they were being handed what they needed most—hope. Even the tiniest glimmer was a potent force. It meant a chance their son could live. They couldn't afford to dismiss such an opportunity without question. What kind of parents would they be if they did?
"I don't like the sound of any of this," said Hannah. "How can you offer us a better solution than the doctors upstairs?"
"Because we can do things they can't," said Gregory, calm and reassuringly.
"And what exactly is that," she said, turning to Jordan quickly. "He won't even tell us. I think it's time for us to leave."
"We can save his life, Mrs. Emerson. That, I assure you, they can't do."
Hannah snatched her purse and rose defiantly to her feet. She marched along a path to the door, smiling graciously before measuring Jordan's thoughts.
"Thank you very much for your time, Doctor," said Hannah, halting her exit when she felt the robust warmth of her husband's hand.
"I think we need to consider this," he said.
"Have you lost your mind?"
Hannah looked at Jordan, surprised they weren't on the same page. She gawked at him in bewilderment, appalled by his tranquility.
"May we have a moment alone?" she asked, crossing her arms as she threw Jordan a precarious look.
When they were finally alone, the total weight of their tension revealed itself at once. Hannah looked into his eyes and tried to understand what had gotten into him.
"You're not seriously considering this, are you?" she asked quietly. "You heard what he said, didn't you? We're not allowed to tell anyone about something he won't explain. Alarm bells should be going off right now."
"What I heard is a solution," he shouted back through a heavy whisper. "He's our son, Hannah. This could be his only shot!"
"Are you listening to yourself? We don't even know who these people are! I mean, is he even a doctor?"
Jordan's eyes shifted to a pale wall decorated with certificates and awards behind the empty desk. Hannah followed his line of sight and discovered the same framed medical license that captured his focus. When Jordan glanced back at Hannah, her defiant expression crumbled, and she threw her hands in a bitter wrath.
"Don't think for one second that I'm going to agree to this!" bellowed Hannah, swiveling away from him as her face turned red.
Jordan rushed to her, wrapping his arms around the woman he was in love with, and suddenly, she couldn't take it anymore. The room began to spin, and she felt the sickening reality she was forced to endure hit her all at once. She didn't know if she was the one behaving irrationally or if it was her husband.
At the point she couldn't stand any longer, she fell to her chair, and he walked around her before kneeling to the ground. He used two gentle hands to force her to look deeply into his eyes, imploring whatever reason she could muster without using a single word. She wanted to lash out at him but didn't know why. Instead of fighting him any further, she broke down, weeping uncontrollably.
"It's our job to protect him, and we failed," said Hannah, engulfing her eyes in salty lakes of tears.
"It was an accident, Hannah. It was no one's fault," he said, wiping her cheeks, pressing his temple into hers, and folding her hair behind an ear as she fixed her eyes away from his.
"We just need a little more time," muttered Hannah, her vision obscured by welted eyes.
Suddenly, the door crept shut, and the doctor appeared in front of it. They weren't alone anymore, and they didn't hear the moment he returned.
"Unfortunately, time isn't on our side," said the doctor, "The longer he's in a coma, the less of a chance we have at saving him."
Jordan turned his head to look at Hannah again, but this time, he looked much different—more torn than before. The two of them peered deeper into each other as if there was no one else in the room, searching each other's eyes for an answer to their dilemma. When Jordan started crying, Hannah lost what little togetherness she had left, watching as the strongest man she knew began whimpering loudly.
"I don't know what you want me to do," he pleaded. "Tell me what to do, and I'll do it."
After that, everything moved so fast. Once the paperwork was completed, Ari was rushed out of the hospital and transported to a distant medical facility, where he was immediately summoned to an operation room. Jordan tightly embraced his wife in a bleakly lit observation deck adjacent to the operating theater as advanced machinery loomed before their son. They watched as a team of highly skilled surgeons meticulously prepared Ari's body for a procedure they didn't understand.
Hannah peeked around the shoulder of her husband, who refused to watch his son's operation, desperately trying to capture what might be the last glimpse of her child while he was alive. The operation room was full of massive machines, and one of them was connected to a terrifying-looking steel rod the doctors readied with haste. She couldn't imagine why they would possibly need such a thing, even though she knew nothing about brain surgery.
Just as the procedure began, the parents were ushered out of the room by a team of somber-faced personnel who condemned them to a day that would inevitably become another sleepless night in a waiting room.
While they clung to their faint hope, something inside Hannah felt off, and it had little to do with the operation only yards away. That uneasy feeling vanished the moment it was announced that the procedure was a success, leaving no trace behind. Renewed hope surged them once they were allowed to wait by Ari's side, believing he would pull through. A question that seemed less significant lingered after Ari woke up again.
Who were these people, and why could they do what the other hospital couldn't?