The professional in him knew that Sajan was the best. He also knew that he himself had done everything in his power to get Nilay to the hospital ASAP. The professional in him knew that Nilay would be fine. He also knew that pulmonary contusion was likely and dangerous.

His heart rate quickened as he mentally listed all the other things that could be going on. Worry and pain colored Anil-uncle’s face; the same parental tug pulled at Daniel, as well.

He and Sheila had sat just like Annika’s parents that day in the ER. They didn’t go to a waiting room; they had just taken one of the bays. Someone had brought them coffee, and Daniel couldn’t imagine anything more mundane than coffee when waiting to hear if his baby girl had been shot to death.

What if Nilay wasn’t fine? Sajan might be the best, but things went wrong all the time. Daniel’s stomach churned. His breathing became uneven as he continued to count the ways in which things could go wrong. The ways in which he could have improved his care of Nilay before he even got to the hospital.

He stood and paced. What was he thinking? He should calm down. Nilay wasn’t even his son. If something happened to Nilay, his family would never be the same. He froze midstep as a realization hit him. If something happened to Nilay, Daniel would never be the same. He tried to focus on the facts. Wave after wave of nausea churned his stomach.

He couldn’t lose Nilay. He couldn’t lose another child.

His hands shook. They had been rock steady when he was inserting that needle, but now... Now he couldn’t make them stop shaking. Even fisted, they trembled. How could he possibly love another child and go through this again and again? He couldn’t. Plain and simple. The not knowing, the wondering, and then, when the answer came down, the pure agony of having your heart ripped out whole.

No.

Annika’s father paced the room, his brown skin ashen, his lips moving but no sound coming out. This was his son, and he was powerless. This man, who’d had the courage to leave one country in search of a better life, was now at the mercy of the skill of surgeons and the ability of the body to heal. He would be forced to accept and move on with whatever happened here tonight.

Annika held her mother while the older woman sat, her hands clasped in her lap, something between worry and terror in her eyes. There were no tears, just frowns of doubt, glimmers of hope, and that belly-sinking feeling that the worst might actually occur.