Page 18 of Booked for Theft

FIVE

“Clearly, it can’t be too serious of a situation. You’re smiling.”

At least one politician wanted to see me rise above the entirety of the government and restore the United States to its former glory, and that haunted me. It infiltrated my dreams and planted the seeds of a brighter future for everyone, built on ideals most could get behind while the greedy grumped over their money helping others. There would always be greed, there would always be the corrupt. There would always be twisted monsters skittering throughout our society.

But the idea that there was a chance, however slim, that I could make a difference shifted my entire world on its axis.

Me? Become the President of the United States?

Could I truly bring about the end of tyranny, murder, and conspiracy, helping my fellow Americans find better lives for themselves, lives where their breeding and pedigree mattered less than their accomplishments, natural inclinations, and desire for their future?

Could people like me, who’d been scorned by society, obtain the freedom to become doctors and nurses without having to wage war for every opportunity? How would my life have changed if only things had been different? I would never know, but there was a chance I might discover it for those following in my footsteps.

Upon arrival at work, the streets suspiciously quiet for a Wednesday morning, I stopped at the front desk, placed Ajani’s carrier on it, plunked my elbows onto the wood, and engaged Mickey in a staring contest. “I must secure revenge on the man I have foolishly agreed to marry,” I announced.

“What did he do now?” Mickey checked the stamp on the book he processed, set it in the return cart, and spared a single glance my way before grabbing the next title. “Clearly, it can’t be too serious of a situation. You’re smiling.”

“He made me cry and run to the fridge to get milk.”

That caught my co-worker’s attention. “That’s impressive and terrifying. We need to work on this, Janette. You want to reward him, not punish him. Word on the grapevine is you scored a massive donation from a senator. However, there’s something you should know.”

I frowned. “What?”

“Senator Thaddens suffered from a heart attack this morning. He went to the Capitol Building, got to his seat, and about ten minutes later, he collapsed. It turns out he might have some form of heart disease—and not the kind you can treat.”

I checked my phone, narrowing my eyes. “They were starting a session early if this has already broken news.”

“It was a six a.m. session,” Mickey confirmed. “Apparently, some key players in the debate had something later in the morning they couldn’t skip and they wanted to get this done before the week ended. Senator Thaddens’s wife released the initial medical report for the media, and the doctor in charge of his case explained why you couldn’t have helped him unless you had been present at the time of the heart attack. It was a catastrophic and sudden attack.”

I grimaced. The catastrophic attacks were the worst, often striking with minimal warning. While a heart attack could last twelve to twenty-four hours before ramping up to its fatal conclusion, some did not.

Those few had been why I’d reacted so poorly to Bradley’s father needing help with his condition.

Mickey sighed. “They’re giving him a fifty-fifty chance of survival at this point, and his odds are steadily declining.”

I wondered if Senator Thaddens had known about his heart problems before recording his videos while overseas and planning his donation so his hopes and dreams for our country could fall into my hands.

Had I delayed at all, the memory stick and its precious contents might have been lost, potentially taken to Senator Thaddens grave with him.

“Which hospital is he at?”

“That wasn’t in the news report. The doctor was pretty clear; it’s unlikely the senator will survive. Right now, he has a fifty-fifty chance because he’s on life support. His wife will make the decision if treatment will be continued tomorrow after discussing the situation with the doctors. At a minimum, the media is speculating that he would need a heart transplant to survive—and his will and final wishes are clear. He doesn’t want a transplant, and he wishes to become an organ donor should he be in a position to need one. Without the transplant, his chance of survival is closer to five percent, or so the news states.”

I dug into my phone and checked my emails with Senator Thaddens, retrieved his wife’s number, which he’d included in case I couldn’t reach him for any reason, added her to my contacts, and dialed.

“Hello, Janette,” Emma answered. “You heard the news.”

I appreciated that her tone indicated a statement rather than a question. “I just got to work, and my co-worker told me. Are you all right?”

“I could be better, but I’m holding on. Spencer had been having some trouble while exercising lately, and he had made an appointment for next week to see a doctor about it. I guess it was his warning sign. We missed it.”

My heart hurt for the woman. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“The doctor said you can’t help his heart, but he mentioned that you might be able to help check and prepare his organs for donation. He’s on life support, so we have the time, but if you’re checking over his blood and making sure everything is good, he can donate everything except his heart and brain—and I’ll have those donated to science. There’s a young man in our hospital that needs a double lung transplant, and they’re compatible. If he’s going to lose his life anyway, he would want it this way.”

That matched what Mickey had told me. “Please text me with the address of the hospital and tell the doctor I’ll be on my way in a few minutes. It’ll take me a few hours to get there.”

“I’ll ask if we can get you a helicopter. President Castillo is here visiting. Hold on.”