Read Online A Safe Space (Someone Else's Fairytale Book 4) by E.M. Tippetts - Free Book Online Page A

grainy face. “You Lizzie’s personal assistant?” the person asks. As the video resolution improves, I see that she’s a nurse in scrubs. “Oh,” she says, “you’re Lizzie.”
    “Yep. Hi.”
    “Is it still Lizzie that you go by?”
    “Mmm-hmm, yeah.”
    “Or should I call you Ms. Warner?”
    “Uh, no. Definitely Lizzie.”
    “So, you and I need to talk for a moment.”
    I nod. “Okay.”
    “This accident ruptured the girl’s liver,” she says. “It’s bad—very bad.”
    “So what’s the prognosis?” I ask.
    “Not good. Really not good.”
    “Can she get a transplant?”
    “I’m not at liberty to discuss any more than that,” is her reply. “The family told me what I could say.” The picture bobs as she walks down the hall with the computer or tablet, whatever it is she’s using for this call.
    “Hello?” she calls out. “I’ve got Lizzie Warner here. You ready for your Skype chat?”
    “Yes,” says high pitched, feminine voice.
    I brace myself. The prognosis is bad, but it doesn’t mean she’ll die. I really don’t need another child’s face to haunt my dreams, but I also can’t ever say no to a fan in need.

 
    W HEN THE PICTURE settles, it’s on a face so battered that I can barely make out the little girl’s features. A bruise covers part of her forehead and she has a black eye. Tape and tubing cover most of her nose and obscure her mouth.
    “Hi Becky,” I say as if I don’t see any of that.
    “Hi.” She adjusts her bed so that she is able to sit up more.
    “I’m Lizzie. It’s nice to meet you.”
    “Thank you for calling.”
    “Of course. It looks like you’ve had a rough time.”
    “I’m gonna die.” She bursts into tears.
    Cleo has her smartphone in hand and swipes away at its screen frantically. When she looks up, she wears an expression of pure horror.
    “You’re not gone yet,” I say to Becky. “Give me just a moment.”
    It’s not an ideal time to break away from the conversation, but I have to find out what’s up with Cleo. I step aside and look at her.
    “I am so sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t know it was a liver issue, and I just looked up what it takes for a liver transplant. You can’t do a donor drive for that. You need a deceased donor or a relative willing to give up part of their liver. I mean, that’s not the sort of thing a stranger would do. I should have vetted this one. I screwed it up completely.”
    “No,” I say, “you didn’t.”
    “But you can’t save her life.”
    “I usually can’t.”
    “That’s…that’s…” Her eyes widen.
    “Life,” I finish. “That’s the way it goes.” I step back in front of the screen. “Sorry about that. So how are you feeling?”
    “Tired,” says Becky.
    “I’m sure. You comfortable?”
    “Right after they give me painkillers, yeah. Otherwise, no.”
    “Becky,” says Cleo, “how big is your family?”
    “I have three sisters,” says the little girl, tilting her head at the sound of my personal assistant’s voice.
    “And have they all been tested to see if they’re a match for you?” Cleo asks.
    I wince. Don’t , I think. The hospital would have already covered this.
    “My older sister is, but she’s too scared. She has nightmares about dying in surgery.”
    “Where is she? Is she at the hospital?” Cleo steps in beside me.
    Becky turns her attention to her. “Um, I don’t know.”
    “Do you know her phone number?”
    I step gently on my personal assistant’s toe and hope she gets the message. This is completely inappropriate.
    “Yeah,” says Becky.
    “Give it to me.”
    I’m not sure what to do. The nurse appears to have left the room, which was probably a mistake. I watch as Becky picks up a cell phone from her bedside table, calls up her sister’s number, and recites the digits.
    “Okay, sorry to interrupt,” Cleo tells me. “Thank you, Becky!” She steps aside and puts her phone to her ear.
    I’m certain this is an ethics violation,