Chương 6 - THE DOCTOR ZAYN WAS AFRAID OF
Zayn wore his favorite dinosaur sneakers to the clinic, which he described as battle equipment. He also wore a bow tie because he insisted that a knight could look formal while defeating medical professionals. I rode in the front seat with the driver, Kian sat beside his son in the back, and Captain Buttons received a seat belt inspection before the car moved an inch.
"I could have just called the doctor," Zayn suggested for the seventh time. "We can do appointments by phone now."
"She needs to listen to your heart," Kian answered.
"I can put my phone on my chest."
"That's innovative," I said. "But let's let her use the equipment she trained with."
He sighed so deeply that his bear appeared disappointed on his behalf. Two weeks earlier, he had become dizzy after racing his friends across a playground. He'd recovered quickly, but his pediatrician wanted to examine him and decide whether further tests were necessary. Kian had rearranged his entire schedule when the first appointment had been delayed. His anxiety was so carefully disguised that anyone who didn't know him might have mistaken it for impatience.
The clinic was bright, ordinary, and entirely unlike the monsters Zayn imagined. Dr. Feld greeted him by name and allowed him to listen to her own heartbeat through the stethoscope before examining his. She explained each step, gave him time to ask questions, and let him choose whether Kian or I sat beside the examination table.
"Aurora," Zayn said instantly, then looked guilty. "Sorry, Dad."
"I'm wounded," Kian replied, taking a chair where his son could still see him. "But I'll recover."
When the doctor asked about his fear of appointments, Zayn clutched Captain Buttons until the bear bent in the middle.
"Mommy left when I had my last one," he whispered. "What if somebody else leaves this time?"
Kian went still. I reached for Zayn's free hand, waiting until he offered it rather than taking it. The doctor put down her pen.
"That must have felt scary," she said. "Your mom's accident happened after that appointment, didn't it?"
He nodded. Kian leaned forward and spoke with a roughness I'd never heard in his voice.
"I should've explained it better. The doctor's office didn't cause what happened to your mother. I wish I could change that day. I can't. But I'm here, and Aurora is here, and we're staying with you through this visit."
"Even if there's a needle?"
"Even then," I told him.
He looked directly at his father. "Do you promise you'll tell me when you're scared, too? You always say you're fine."
Kian laughed once without humor. "I promise to try."
The examination didn't produce an alarming answer. Dr. Feld said his initial findings were reassuring, recommended follow-up testing to understand the dizzy spell, and explained what symptoms should prompt immediate medical attention. Zayn regarded the appointment as a partial victory because no needle was needed that day. He celebrated by requesting pancakes at a restaurant that wasn't Bellarosa.
Before we left, a silver-haired woman in the clinic waiting room approached Kian. "Your wife used to bring books here," she said. "For our after-school literacy program."
Her badge identified her as Ellen Park, the clinic's volunteer coordinator. Kian's face softened. "Elena loved this place."
"She also asked questions nobody wanted to answer." Ellen hesitated, glancing at me. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't bring that up here."
Kian didn't press her. He handed her Mara's business card instead, asking whether she'd be comfortable speaking with an independent investigator if her recollection might be relevant to a current inquiry. Ellen considered it and nodded.
At breakfast, Zayn devoured two pancakes shaped like stars while Kian and I watched his triumphant performance with the syrup bottle. The boy had survived a medical visit, conquered his fear for one day, and decided he deserved the chocolate chips usually forbidden before lunch.
"Dad," he announced, "I have a plan."
"Those words tend to cost me money."
"You should marry Aurora. That way, if she wants to leave, we have to ask her first."
I nearly choked on my coffee. Kian handed me a napkin, his expression unreadable.
"That's not how marriage works," he said. "And we never make somebody stay."
"But if she likes us?"
"Then we make it worth her while to visit, without making it a rule."
Zayn studied me as if I'd been appointed judge of the entire arrangement. "Do you like us?"
"Very much," I answered.
"Enough to visit again?"
"Enough to steal one of your pancakes right now."
He protected his plate with both arms. "Marriage is hard."
Back at the estate, Kian and I walked through the glass-enclosed garden while Zayn built a castle with Mrs. Alvarez. He told me more about Elena without polishing the grief into something pretty. She had been a photographer and a volunteer with immigrant families who couldn't afford private lawyers. She knew he did business with people she disliked. They argued about it often. Their last conversation before her fatal car crash had been about whether his money could ever become clean simply because he wanted it to.
"She wanted me to change," he said. "I thought I had time."
"What would she think of what you're doing now?"
"She'd ask why it took a stranger hiding in a restaurant for me to notice Tony Marchetti was still hurting people."
I let that answer stand. He didn't need me to forgive him on Elena's behalf. Grief was not a debt one woman could pay for another.
Ellen Park called Mara later that afternoon. She remembered Elena becoming upset after Meridian Guest Services volunteered to transport young women to employment interviews. Several clients had disappeared from the program shortly afterward. Elena had demanded the names of the hiring agencies, but the transport provider cited confidentiality and stopped answering her calls.
"Did she keep records?" Mara asked.
"She used to leave copies with a repairman she trusted," Ellen said. "His daughter worked at a little bakery. I think his name was Bennett."
I stared at the speakerphone. Dad had repaired Elena's cello for the clinic's annual fundraiser. That explained their photograph. It also meant the notebook I'd found might be part of a much larger archive, and that Regina could've taken something from my father's estate without understanding its value.
"There's something else," Ellen added. "Elena told me she thought someone close to Kian was approving the transport invoices. She wouldn't name him until she was sure."
May you like
Kian looked toward the garden, where his son was waving a paper crown.
"Matteo approved the invoices," he said.
