Chapter 32

 

I smiled as I walked into St. Joseph Hospital, where I worked.  It was early December, and the hospital was all decorated for Christmas. 

 

“Hi, Julie!” Tanya, the head receptionist, called from the main desk.

 

“Hey, Tanya!” I called back.  I went to the desk to chat for a moment.

 

“So how’s Josh doing?” she asked.

 

“He’s getting better,” I said.

 

Josh had been discharged from the hospital in early November, but he still had to recuperate from his surgery, so he wasn’t expected to be back at work for another month at least. 

 

“That’s good,” Tanya said.  “Tell him I said hi.”

 

“Will do,” I said.  “Well, I gotta run.  See ya later!”

 

“Have a good day!” she called, as I headed to the elevators to go up to the third floor, Pediatrics, where I spent most of my time.

 

When the elevator doors opened on the third floor, I was greeted by the cheeriness of brightly painted walls and all kinds of colorful Christmas decorations.   We all tried to make the Pediatric floor seem as cheerful and homey as possible for the kids, especially the little ones, who were terrified of hospitals.

 

I walked down the hall to my office and dropped off my purse in it.  I put my white coat on over my purple scrubs and hung my stethoscope around my neck.  Then I was ready to start working.

 

***

 

After lunch, I headed down to the ER, where I sometimes worked, if the staff down there was in need of extra help.  Today, they were.  I didn’t mind though.  The ER was usually a pretty interesting place. 

 

“Hey, Julie, thanks for coming down,” said Dr. Hall, one of the resident doctors that worked in the ER.

 

“No problem,” I replied.  “Got any patients for me to see?”

 

“Yeah, a teenage girl was just brought in with an ankle injury.  You can go see her.  Exam 4,” he said, handing me a clipboard with the girl’s chart on it. 

 

“Okay,” I said, heading down the hall to Exam 4.

 

I glanced at the name on the chart before I walked in.  Megan Johnson.  Then I headed into the room.  I saw a girl who looked to be about thirteen or fourteen sitting in the bed, her ankle propped up, an ice pack resting on it.  She was a pretty girl, tall and slender, with curly blonde hair and hazel eyes. 

 

“Hi, Megan,” I greeted, smiling at her.  “My name’s Dr. Benton.”

 

“Hi,” she said, smiling shyly up at me. 

 

“Are your parents here?” I asked, realizing she was alone in the room.

 

“My foster parents are filling out some forms in the waiting room, I think,” she said. 

 

“Oh ok,” I replied.  “Well then, I hear you hurt your ankle.”

 

“Yup,” she said, nodding. 

”How did you do that?” I asked, gently taking the ice off her ankle so I could examine it.

 

“I twisted it at cheerleading practice this morning,” she said.

 

“Oh, you’re a cheerleader?” I asked.

 

“Yup,” she said. 

 

“Cool.  What grade are you in?”

 

“Eighth,” she said. 

 

“What school do you go to?” I asked.

 

“Tates Creek Middle School,” she replied.

 

“Cool,” I said.  “Does this hurt?”  I gently rotated her ankle, which was puffy and swollen.

 

She winced.  “Yeah,” she said.

 

“Sorry about that,” I said. 

 

“It’s okay,” Megan replied. 

 

“Well, Megan, it looks like you have a sprained ankle.  I’d like to run some X-rays, just to see how serious it is and make sure it’s not fractured,” I explained.

 

She nodded.  “Okay,” she said.

 

“I’ll go talk to your foster parents now, and a nurse will be in pretty soon to take you down to X-ray, ok?”

 

“Okay,” she said again.  I flashed her a smile as I was leaving, and she smiled back.

 

As I walked down the hall towards the nurses’ station, Megan’s smile was frozen in my mind.  There was something about it that looked very familiar, but I wasn’t sure what.  Maybe she was a patient I had seen before.  I had seen a lot of teenage girls before, so that was possible.  But I had a feeling that there was more to it than that.

 

***

 

“Hey, Hallie, can you take the patient in Exam 4 down to X-ray?” I asked one of the nurses when I got to the nurses’ station.

 

“Sure,” Hallie replied and walked back down the hall towards Megan’s room.

 

Before heading to the waiting room to talk to Megan’s parents… foster parents… I went into the lounge.  No one else was in there.  I sat down and looked at Megan’s chart.

 

It had all the normal, basic facts on it, nothing that caught my eye right away.  Her age, height, weight, blood type.  Blood type.

 

“Blood type,” I murmured out loud, as I stared at it.  It was a blood type that was very rare.  In fact, I didn’t recall ever treating any patients with this blood type.   But then, something came to mind.  Something that had happened not long ago, back at the hospital in Atlanta, where Josh and Nick had stayed in for all those days…

 

***

 

Sammy and I were in the cafeteria of the hospital, grabbing some quick lunch.  As Sammy pulled some money out of her wallet, something slipped out and fell to the ground.

 

As she was paying, I bent and picked it up.  It was her driver’s license, lying upside down on the ground.  As I picked it up, I caught sight of the information on the back.  What really caught my eye was her blood type, which was a type I’d never heard of anyone having before.

 

“Hey, Sammy, you dropped this,” I said, handing it to her when she had finished paying.

 

“Oh, thanks,” she said, taking it from me.

 

“I just happened to notice your blood type,” I said.  “I’ve never known anyone who has that type.”

 

“Oh yeah, it’s really rare,” she said.  “No one knows where I got it from either.  Neither of my parents are that type.”

 

“You’re just special, I guess,” I said, grinning.  She just laughed, stuffing her license back in her wallet.

 

***

 

My mouth dropped open as my gaze lingered on Megan’s chart.  Could it be?  Was Megan really Sammy’s long lost daughter?  It seemed too good to be true, yet all the evidence pointed to just that.  Not only did Sammy and Megan have the same blood type, but Megan had Sammy’s eyes and smile as well.  I remembered Sammy saying that she had curly blonde hair too, a trait that must have been inherited from Justin.  Justin.  I shuddered at the very thought that he was actually Megan’s father. 

 

I wasn’t sure what to do.  Should I call Sammy?  What if it wasn’t really her Megan?  And what would Megan’s foster parents say, not to mention Megan herself?

 

I decided the first thing to do was go talk to the parents.  I left the lounge and went to the waiting room.   It was fairly crowded, and I had no idea what Megan’s parents looked like.

 

“Who here is with Megan Johnson?” I asked over the hushed chatter of the people in the room.

 

A man sitting in an empty corner raised his hand.  I hurried over to him and his wife.

 

“Hi there,” I said.  “I’m Dr. Julie Benton.”

 

“I’m Doug Johnson, and this is my wife, Amy,” the man said, extending his hand.

 

I shook it and smiled at Amy.  “Well, I just took a look at Megan’s ankle, and it looks like she’s sprained it.  She was taken down for some X rays not long ago just to make sure there’s not a fracture or anything more serious.”

 

“Okay,” Amy said. 

 

“So, you two aren’t Megan’s natural parents, right?” I asked casually.

 

“No, we’re just her foster parents, but she’s been living with us since she was six,” Doug replied.  “We’d like to adopt her someday.”

 

I nodded.  “Does she know her birth parents?” I asked.

 

Doug shook his head.  “No, I don’t think so,” he said.  “She’s never talked about her parents at all.”

 

I nodded again.  My heart pounded.  I had a gut feeling that this was Sammy’s daughter, but I had no idea what to tell Doug and Amy.  They obviously loved Megan as their own daughter.  What would happen if Sammy and Megan were reunited?  I knew they would probably be devastated if Megan went to live with Sammy, but then I knew how happy Sammy would be. 

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, there’s something I think I need to tell you,” I started slowly, nervously clearing my throat.

 

“What is it?” Amy asked, a look of concern spreading across her face.

 

“Well, I have a friend named Samantha Peter.  She had a little girl named Megan, who was kidnapped when she was four.  She was never found, and everyone thought she had been killed.  Sammy’s given me a description of what her daughter looked like, and it fits Megan’s description perfectly.  Also, both Sammy has an extremely rare blood type, and according to this chart, so does Megan.”

 

Doug and Amy’s mouths dropped open, and they stared at me in shock.  “Oh my,” Amy said.  “You really think Megan is your friend’s daughter?”

 

I nodded.  “I’m not positive, but all the evidence leads up to it, and I just have a gut feeling.”

 

They nodded.  “I was never able to have children of my own,” Amy said quietly.  “Doug and I have been housing foster children for years.  Most of them leave us eventually, but Megan’s been with us since she was in kindergarten.  We got her through a social worker.  I had no idea she’d been kidnapped.  She must not remember any of it, because she’s never talked about it.”  

 

I shrugged.  “I have no idea what went on.  All I know is that it’s very likely that she could be Sammy’s daughter, and I know Sammy would be thrilled beyond words if she knew that Megan was still alive.  She’s gone all these years thinking that her little girl was dead.”

 

Amy’s eyes were tear-filled.  “That must be horrible,” she murmured. 

 

I nodded.  “It is,” I said.  “I don’t think she’s still quite over it.”

 

“Well listen, we both love Megan like a daughter, but she’s not really ours.  If this Sammy really is her mother, and she wants Megan back, there’s nothing we can do,” Doug said.  “I don’t want Megan to leave, but I could never deprive a mother of her real daughter.”

 

Amy nodded.  “I agree,” she said.

 

“Well, listen, I’ll take you to Megan’s room.  She’ll probably be back in there now.  Then I’ll go call Sammy,” I said.  “We can get this all sorted out then.”

 

They both nodded, and I walked them down the hall to Megan’s room.  I let them have some time with her and went back into the lounge to call Sammy.

 

***

 

 

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