Chapter 9 - The Healer’s Touch
Monday morning at Northwestern Memorial Children’s Hospital was quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of monitors in the pediatric intensive care unit.
Lily lay in the center of the large, private corner suite. Her small face looked tiny against the mountain of white pillows. Her favorite stuffed bear, a brown plush Luca had gifted her with a small silver heart pinned to its chest, was tucked firmly beneath her arm.
“Mommy, will the doctor use big needles?” Lily asked, her voice small and trembling as the surgical prep nurse adjusted her IV line.
I sat on the edge of the mattress, fighting with every ounce of my soul to keep my smile bright and my voice steady. “No, my love. They’re going to give you some magic sleepy juice through that little tube. You’ll take a nice nap, dream about flying with butterflies, and when you wake up, your heart will be as strong as a lion’s.”
“Can Mr. Luca come in?”
Luca stepped through the door instantly. He had been standing guard in the corridor, dressed in a soft cashmere sweater that concealed his bandages. He crossed the room, leaning over the bed rail, and took Lily’s tiny hand in his enormous, scarred palm.
“I have a mission for you, Lily,” Luca said, his voice warm, low, and full of steady courage.
“A mission?”
Luca pulled a small, gleaming gold coin from his pocket—an antique Italian medallion depicting a winged guardian. He pressed it into her tiny fingers.
“You hold onto this while you sleep,” Luca told her. “When you wake up, you have to give it back to me. That means you have to wake up strong, little soldier. Deal?”
Lily smiled, closing her fingers tightly over the warm gold. “Deal, Mr. Luca.”
Dr. Vance, the world-renowned pediatric cardiac surgeon, stepped into the room with two surgical nurses. “It’s time, folks.”
Bending down, I kissed Lily’s cheeks, her forehead, her hair, soaking in her scent as silent tears fell onto her pillow. “I love you to the moon and back, my sweet girl. Mommy will be right here when you wake up.”
Luca placed a gentle kiss on her forehead as well. “See you soon, brave girl.”
They wheeled the gurney down the hallway toward the operating theater. When the heavy double doors swung shut, my strength completely vanished.
My knees gave out.
Luca caught me before I hit the linoleum floor. He scooped me up into his arms, carrying me over to the waiting room sofa, and pulled me into his lap. He wrapped his arms around me, burying his face into my neck, holding me as I sobbed uncontrollably into his chest.
“She’s going to be fine, Sarah,” Luca whispered over and over, his own voice cracking with emotion. “She’s going to make it. I swear to you on my life.”
For seven agonizing hours, time ceased to exist.
Evelyn arrived at noon in a wheelchair pushed by Margaret Lewis. The three of us sat together in that private waiting room, praying, holding hands, watching the hands of the wall clock crawl second by second.
Luca never left my side. He held my coffee. He massaged my trembling shoulders. Whenever the terror threatened to drown me, he pulled me against his side, his steady heartbeat reminding me that we were not alone anymore.
At 3:45 PM, the surgical doors finally hissed open.
Dr. Vance walked through, still wearing his blue scrubs, his surgical cap in his hand. He looked exhausted, lines of strain etched around his eyes.
I stood up so fast the room spun. Luca was beside me instantly, his hand resting firmly on the small of my back.
“Dr. Vance?” I choked out, unable to breathe.
The surgeon looked at us for a long, torturous second. Then, a wide, triumphant smile broke across his face.
“She did magnificent, Sarah,” Dr. Vance said, letting out a long breath. “The ventricular defect was completely patched. The pulmonary pressure dropped by forty percent the moment we closed the valve. Her heart is beating on its own with perfect sinus rhythm.”
A sound between a scream and a sob tore from my throat.
I collapsed against Luca’s chest. Luca caught me, burying his face into my hair, and for the first time since I had met the terrifying Don of Chicago, I felt hot tears soaking into my collar.
Luca Moretti was weeping.
“Thank you, Vance,” Luca choked out, his voice thick with unbridled gratitude. “Thank you.”
Evelyn and Margaret were crying together on the sofa, clutching their rosaries, whispering prayers of thanksgiving to Antonio and Saint Jude.
An hour later, Luca and I were allowed into the recovery unit.
Lily was asleep, her breathing deep, even, and natural. The bluish tint that had haunted her lips and fingernails for seven years was completely gone, replaced by a radiant, blooming petal-pink flush.
And resting tightly in her small, sleeping right hand was the gold guardian medallion.
Luca stood beside the bed, looking down at the little girl, his hand slowly reaching out to entangle with mine.
“Sarah,” he said softly, turning to face me in the dim glow of the monitors.
“Yes, Luca?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet jeweler’s box. He didn't drop to one knee; he didn't need grand, theatrical gestures. The raw, vulnerable truth in his eyes was worth more than all the diamonds in the world.
“My mother’s necklace was restrung today,” he whispered, opening the box.
Inside rested Evelyn’s forty-pearl wedding strand, restored to perfection. But flanking the antique gold clasp were two brand-new, luminous pearls, glowing with an ethereal white luster.
“Antonio gave this to my mother to prove that love can survive blood, war, and time,” Luca said, his voice trembling with a devotion that brought fresh tears to my eyes. “I spent years believing I was only meant to protect this family from the shadows. That my hands were too dirty to ever hold something pure.”
He lifted his hand, his thumb gently stroking my cheekbone.
“You taught me that strength isn't about how much fear you can cause. It’s about how much love you’re willing to bleed for. I love you, Sarah. I love Lily. If you will have me, I want to spend the rest of my life being the man who keeps you safe, honors you, and loves you as my wife.”
Looking at the man who had torn down an empire to save my daughter, who had taken a bullet to shield my home, there was only one possible answer in my universe.
“Yes, Luca,” I whispered, throwing my arms around his neck. “A thousand times, yes.”
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Luca pulled me against him, his lips finding mine in a deep, tender kiss that sealed our future, while behind us, the monitor beeped with the steady, unbreakable rhythm of Lily’s newly healed heart.
***
