Page 121 of Ghost Ribbon

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Since we moved here. About… a year and a half.”

The doctor removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your situation could have been prevented.”

“Prevented?”

“Your heart has weakened significantly over the past eighteen months. The progression is consistent with the underlying condition you were diagnosed with as a child, but it has been accelerated by neglect.”

“Neglect,” I echoed.

“Missed appointments,” Aldenberg continued. “Inconsistent medication. Lack of dietary management. No regular monitoring of cardiac function. The medication you were prescribed was appropriate, but it required adjustment six months ago based on changes that should have been caught in a routine follow-up.” He paused. “They were not caught.”

I made a mental note.

Dr. Reiner.

I would deal with him later - meaning I’d fucking kill him.

Aldenberg continued, turning his attention back to Marco. “Your heart has weakened. The muscle isn’t pumping as efficiently as it should. The ejection fraction is lower than I would like. There is some enlargement of the left ventricle, which suggests your heart has been working harder than it should to compensate for the deterioration.”

Marco wasn’t panicking, but I could see the way his fingers were pressing so hard against each other that the knuckles had gone white.

I reached over without looking and placed my hand over both of his.

He flinched slightly, then relaxed.

“There are treatment options,” he continued. “With proper management, we can slow the progression significantly. But your heart is weakening day by day. I can’t promise how long it can hold on.”

I held his hand like I was trying to keep him tethered to the earth, like if I let go he might float away into some place I couldn’t follow.

“Am I going to die?”

The question hit me so hard my vision went white at the edges, and for one terrible second, I was somewhere else entirely - somewhere hollow, standing in a void again.

“Your heart is weak. I don’t know how long it can hold on. I foresee a heart transplant in the future.”

Transplant.

“When you say future,” I said, my voice scraping out of me like broken glass, “how long?”

“I can’t tell you the exact time. But I think you should get on the list. Your heart muscle isn’t pumping properly. It’s manageable now with the right medication, but your heart won’t work for long.”

The world went red at the edges. “Put him first on the list.”

Aldenberg opened his mouth to argue.

“The first on the list,” I warned, “or I rip your own heart out.”

The doctor closed his mouth.

“Do we have an understanding?”

Aldenberg swallowed once. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Marco’s fingers were still curled in mine and I held them tighter, tighter, tighter, like I could keep his heart beating through sheer force of will.