When the doctor finally called, she asked Lyric and her mother to come in for a face to face meeting. Lyric wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
“We got the results back.” Dr. Hanson started. Her voice was controlled and didn’t give anything away as she turned to Lyric’s mom. “I’m afraid, Mrs. Rivers, that you are not a match for your mother’s bone marrow.”
Lyric could feel the defeat and desperation coming off her mom in waves. She knew how badly her mom had wanted to do something to help. Lyric mentally crossed her fingers. If she was a match, then at least one of them could help.
Dr. Hanson shuffled some papers on her desk. “We’ve reached out to donors. Chances aren’t great, but we might be able to find someone who’s a match.”
“Wait, what?” Lyric’s fists clenched beside her.
“What about Lyric?” Her mother was also tense. “You tested Lyric too. Is she a match?”
Dr. Hanson was silent for a while. “It was a long shot, but, yes, we did test Lyric.”
“A long shot?” Lyric started to fidget. “Why? Is it because there’s a generational gap? We’re still related, so that would be better than a stranger’s chance, right?”
“It’s because you’re adopted.” Dr. Hanson said calmly. “Genetically, you are--”
“What?!” Lyric’s mom was on her feet in an instant. “Lyric’s not adopted!”
Dr. Hanson flinched at the outburst. She scrabbled for some of the papers on her desk. “I have it right here, though. Lyric is not related to you by blood.”
“That’s preposterous!” Her mom was yelling now. “I know she’s my daughter! I gave birth to her right here in this hospital!”
“Mom.” Lyric reached out and placed a hand on her mom’s arm. “There was probably just a mix up.” She turned to Dr. Hanson. “Do I need to give more blood for another test?”
But Dr. Hanson was shaking her head. “We follow protocol here very strictly. There was no mix--” She suddenly stopped, her eyes going wide. “It can’t be.”
She turned away from them then, booting up her computer. Lyric waited patiently as the doctor’s hands flew over her keyboard. She knew there had to be a reason the tests came back wrong.
“You were born November 13th, right?”
“Yes.” Lyric’s mom answered for her. “November 13th at 11:11 AM. It was a Friday.” Despite the circumstances, a smile played at her lips. Lyric knew her mom loved the fact that she had been born on Friday the thirteenth, an unlucky day, but at a time that was considered lucky.
Dr. Hanson stared at the screen for a long time. Then she shook her head and turned back to them. “I can’t be sure of anything right now, but…” She gripped some papers very tightly. “Something might have happened. I’ll have to make some calls to be sure, but for now, Lyric, could I get a saliva swab from you?”
The request caught her a little off guard, but she nodded. The doctor fetched the swab kit and Lyric obediently opened her mouth. The swab felt funny against her cheek, but it was better than the needle to draw blood from last time.
Dr. Hanson calmly sealed the swab and set it aside. “It might take a bit of time, but I’ll call you as soon as I can.” She gave them an apologetic look. “I just want you to know, if I’m right about this, I am so sorry.” Her gaze was on Lyric when she started, but lingered on Lyric’s mom at he end of her apology.
Lyric’s stomach clenched. What was going on?
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