Read Online The Still of Night by Kristen Heitzmann - Free Book Online

Her voice was clear and direct. She had a poise and presence beyond her years.
    Maybe suffering did that. She didn’t have time for childish insecurities. Her life was pared down to the basics.
    “The chances are good.” Jill’s voice came out remarkably calm. This is my daughter I’m talking to! What would Morgan say? What would he think in her position?
    “Do you mind if I ask why?” Kelsey was no fool. How had they explained a stranger offering bone marrow to her? How did the unrelated donor program work? She should have read about it before coming.
    Jill fumbled. “I work with kids who have problems. I believe in organ transplants and any kind of medical procedure that helps people survive.” Where had that come from?
    “So it’s like a ministry or something?”
    “A ministry?” She looked at Kelsey’s eyes, so, so blue. “Yes. In a way.” A ministry to her daughter, a chance from God to—
    “Have you given marrow before, for someone else?”
    Throat tightening, Jill shook her head. “No. This will be the first time.”
    Kelsey’s lips tightened. “It’s painful.” Her eyes were red rimmed and far too large for her shrunken face. “Even though they sedate you, it hurts for days.” Her gaze didn’t waver.
    Was she testing her commitment? “It’ll be all right.” She touched Kelsey’s hand. The skin was soft and warm, and an almost electrical thrill passed through her with the touch. Her daughter. Oh, God, she has to live!
    Kelsey smiled, and it wrenched Jill’s heart. “I didn’t know someone would care enough. I mean …” She glanced at Cinda. “My parents would do it, if they could, but I’m adopted.”
    “Oh.” Jill’s voice was hardly a whisper. “I’m sure they’ve done a lot more than this for you.”
    Kelsey smiled at Cinda, and Jill ached at the relationship she saw between them. Oh, God, oh please, God …
    Cinda patted Kelsey’s shoulder. A simple, familiar gesture. Jill wished she could touch her daughter that way. Did Kelsey notice their likeness? Jill wanted her to, hoped she would guess. But that was selfish. Kelsey didn’t need to deal with anything more. Cinda and the doctor were right.
    Kelsey turned back to Jill. “Why did you choose me?”
    Jill’s heart jumped. Was there more in the question than Kelsey let
    on?
    Cinda touched Kelsey’s cheek with the back of her fingers. “You know that’s not how the program works, Kelsey. It’s all matching antigens.”
    Kelsey’s gaze remained direct. Was she one step ahead of them? Did she guess, did she know? “If I were healthy, I’d donate, too.” Kelsey settled into the pillows. “It helps people live.”
    “You do enough by giving people hope.” Cinda looked up. “Kelsey has a Web page—she calls it her Hope Page. She answers the questions and fears of other kids with leukemia, and sometimes their parents. Mostly she shares Christ’s love.” Cinda rested her fingers on Kelsey’s head. Jill absorbed every one of those touches, imagining them for her-self.
    “Mom?” Kelsey’s eyes suddenly took on Morgan’s intensity.
    “Yes?” Cinda met her daughter’s gaze.
    “God could do this, couldn’t He?”
    Jill felt a jolt, sensing Kelsey’s fear.
    Cinda fought her tears. “Of course He can.”
    “Like a miracle.”
    Cinda smiled. “Yes.”
    Jill’s throat went dry and cleaved together. Please God . If anyone deserved a miracle, it was the child before her.
    Her daughter’s eyes pierced her. “Thank you for coming to see me. And for the rest of it especially.”
    Jill nodded, her voice trapped in her throat. And that was all she would have, fresh images to play through her mind of her daughter. Not as she had ever imagined her, but real true images. Somehow she walked out.
    Downstairs, Cinda handed her a sheet of information and a business card. “This explains what you need to do to begin the process. If the testing indicates we can go forward, Kelsey will enter the Yale New Haven Cancer