My Name Was Emily (2)

Ginnie

I'd nestled myself between Chloe and John. The doctor stepped out and met us in the hall. It'd been eight hours since we'd seen him last. He and his partner had worked at length, performing their signature surgery.

They claimed they could change anybody's face — and they could make one face resemble another.

“Don't you realize what that means?” I'd asked, holding John's arm when I'd researched this. “It means the three of us can have Lizzie again.”

But surgery alone wouldn't bring her back. We needed a child to portray her well. Someone who'd known her. Someone who'd loved her. Someone who would mimic her perfectly.

Only one person could qualify. Nobody else in the world would do.

Doctor Lindell pulled his blue mask down. Time to find out what had happened in there.

I gathered our hands as we stared ahead.

“It went very well,” the doctor relayed. “She's sleeping now, but perfectly fine. My partner is applying the permanent dye, and giving her a drug to maintain the hue.”

I took a deep breath, shaking in place. I needed solid proof of what I'd just been told.

“You can see her face before we bandage it up,” the doctor declared, reading my posture. “It's going to have to stay wrapped for forty-eight hours.”

He led us inside. I paused at the door, seeing her soles on the table ahead.

I glanced at my husband, and then inched forth. Life had given us a great number of gifts — borderline wealth, a beautiful home, and most importantly, two wonderful kids. Several years ago, part of me had dreaded that we'd had too much, that the world would try and take something away. And it'd turned out I was right about that. But I wouldn't lose what it'd tried to claim. I wouldn't lose my bond with my eldest child.

I studied her legs, then looked at her chest — then stepped forward and saw her beautiful face.

I summoned all my strength just to stay upright. I noticed John shaking as he clung to me.

The lovely mole. The arched eyebrows. The slanted nose. The elegant chin. I was staring straight at my daughter's face. Emily was gone. Lizzie was back.

“What in the world...” Chloe intoned, sounding as smitten as I felt right now.

I glanced at her, then turned again. The girl on the table was soundly asleep. She looked like Lizzie. A perfect match. The doctors had succeed in creating the face. They'd done their part.

I'd do the rest.

Next

Previous

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Welcome