Chapter Text
Fahlada watched the monitor that displayed her daughter's heart rate and oxygen saturation closely. The young woman no longer needed machines to breathe, which was good news. The older doctor sat down and observed her daughter's serene face, leaning in to kiss the perfectly healed scar on her forehead.
She remained like this for a few seconds before sitting up again and holding the hand of her firstborn, Ranlada.
The relief was a faint, fleeting sensation.
Fahlada, despite being visibly thinner and still recovering from her own heart attack, maintained an iron composure. She had assumed total control of Ranlada's rehabilitation, mobilizing the family hospital and her best contacts. She was the doctor, the only one who could remain coldly functional in the midst of chaos.
Her wife, Earn, was at home, recovering. The car accident, which was already severe, had revealed an even more terrifying diagnosis: the emergency surgery, originally to treat the head trauma, exposed the presence of a tumor. Just like Earn's mother, the diagnosis came unexpectedly. Now Earn was at home, debilitated, in absolute post-surgical rest, and Fahlada needed to shield her from stress.
Fahlada let go of her daughter Ranlada's hand and picked up her cell phone, moving away towards the window. Her focus was now on the surgical step. She dialed the number with the precision of a doctor, not a mother.
"Prem" Fahlada spoke as soon as the call was answered, her voice low but charged with authority. "Ranlada needs you now. Pammy said you would be attentive to my call."
On the other end, the warm voice of her friend and colleague, cardiologist Premsinee Chotiphicharn-Tharanisorn, replied: "Lada, are you sure? Last time I checked she..."
"You saw her last month, but now she's stable. We took her off support, but her cardiac status requires corrective surgery. The sooner the better, and I only trust you to do it." There was a brief silence on the other end. Premsinee knew Fahlada. she knew the request was the plea of a desperate mother, though disguised by the facade of a demanding colleague.
"I'm in Singapore with Pat and Pam, my plane leaves in three hours. Tell the team to prepare my operating room, I want the imaging tests, the full history, and updates on my desk the moment I step into that hospital."
"See you, Prem." Fahlada ended the call, feeling the weight of the decision settle on her shoulders.
She wanted to give the news to Earn, but she couldn't risk making her wife anxious.
Earn was at home with Rinlada, who was dealing with her twin sister's serious condition as any sibling would, handling the fear in her own way, in the lap of her recovering mother. Fahlada had instructed that Earn and Rinlada could only visit for a very few minutes and only when Ranlada was completely sedated, to prevent any shock.
The coma had to be extended to know her status and how long she could last without having a... cardiac arrest. Minutes. Just minutes, and that scared Fahlada like hell.
The hospital director, and mother of two sensational adults, returned to her firstborn's bedside. She leaned in, kissed her forehead one more time, and checked the intravenous medication. Her job was not over yet.
"You'll be alright, my beloved daughter " Fahlada whispered, squeezing her daughter's hand again. "Your mother will make sure of it."
And she stayed there, watching the screen, waiting for dawn and the arrival of her friend, the only person she would entrust Ranlada's life to.