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Also, once you’re approved as a donor, I’ll ask you to sign a consent form. It’s not legally binding and you’re free to back out at any time—”
    “I won’t back out, Noelle. I’m committed to doing this for that poor child.” Brianna leaned forward urgently. “Give me the form and I’ll sign it now.”
    “Hear me out, please,” the doctor said, holding up her hand as if she was directing traffic. “There’s more. Once you’ve signed that document, we’ll start Poppy on a round of conditioning chemotherapy.”
    Brianna sank back in her chair, the information so unexpected and shocking that she felt sick to her stomach. She had a modeling friend, a stunningly beautiful young woman, who at only twenty-three had been diagnosed with leukemia. Although she was now in remission, she’d said more than once that the cure was worse than the disease.
    “For heaven’s sake, why?” Brianna cried, tears stinging her eyes. “Poppy’s just a little girl—not much more than a baby—and she doesn’t have cancer. Why do you have to do something so horribly drastic?”
    “To destroy her abnormal cells and make room for your healthy replacement.”
    A logical procedure from a medical point of view, Brianna supposed. Still…“How long will it take—the treatment, I mean?”
    “About a week, although the aftereffects last significantly longer, but you may be sure we’ll do our best to keep her as comfortable as possible throughout that time.”
    “Does Dimitrios know about this?”
    “Of course. I consult with him every day.”
    “It must be killing him!” And I’m not making it any easier, doing battle with him over every perceived slight.
    “He’s had a hard time coming to terms with it, certainly, but given the alternative, he’s presented with little choice. However, the reason I’m bringing this up with you now, Brianna, is that the conditioning therapy also kills off the patient’s immune system. It’s therefore critical for you to understand that if you were to change your mind after this point, Poppy will almost certainly die or suffer serious delays in further treatment.” She pushed a thick folder across her desk. “And that’s why I won’t let you sign anything today. I want you to go away, read this information package and weigh what I’ve told you before you make any final decisions.”
    “Poppy doesn’t have time for that.”
    “We’re talking about two weeks at the most, and Poppy is relatively stable right now.”
    “So stable she’s in a hospital, instead of at home!”
    “To protect her from exposure to infection. Even something as simple as a cold could set her back and prevent a successful transplant. Obviously, that’s not a risk any of us is prepared to take.”
    “No, of course not.” She hesitated a moment before continuing, “I’m not sure how much you know of my relationship with my sister, but you’ve probably gathered from remarks made at dinner last night that I’ve never actually met Poppy, and I’d very much like to put a face to this child who’s depending on me for so much. Is it at all possible for me to visit her?”
    “I don’t see why not, as long as Dimitrios has no objection.” Noelle glanced at the clock on her desk. “He usually stops by over the lunch hour, so is probably with her now. Why don’t we go and find out?”
    Brianna thought she knew all about heartache and heartbreak, but the next twenty minutes or so taught her she hadn’t begun to plumb the depths of either. Not only was Poppy hospitalized, she was in isolation—what Noelle chillingly referred to as “a sterile environment”—which meant not only that she had no other children nearby to keep her company, but also that everyone going into her room first had to follow a strict hygiene regimen.
    “Doesn’t it frighten her, being surrounded by people whose faces she can’t really see?” Brianna asked, donning the required gown and mask.
    “You tell me,” Noelle