Chapter 13

Angela sped south on the highway, her mind and heart both racing. She glanced over at the passenger seat in the Jag where Sam was biting her nails, the same look of sheer panic on her face she'd had ever since Angela had barged into her bedroom an hour earlier and relayed what she'd been told over the phone by the hospital. Angela kept replaying bits and pieces from that conversation.

"Pedestrian vs. car." "Extent of the injuries are unknown at this time." "Head trauma." "Critical condition."

Taking a deep breath, Angela took her right hand off the steering wheel, placing it on Sam's thigh to provide a little reassurance. At that moment, Sam looked more like the 11-year-old girl who had first appeared on Angela's doorstep more than three years ago than the 15-year-old teenager she now was.

"I can't lose my dad, Angela. I'll be an orphan," Sam whispered as her voice broke. "I've been so awful to him these last few months, even though he let me stay with you."

"Stop it right there, Sam," Angela replied forcefully. "You're not going to lose him. We're not going to lose him. And you will never be an orphan. Tony and I ensured that would not happen to you or Jonathan. After your dad asked me to take care of you when he had his appendix out, I had my lawyer draw up legal guardianship papers. I am your official guardian should anything happen to your dad. Not that it's going to! And Tony is Jonathan's official guardian should something happen to me."

"Oh wow!" Sam said, stunned. She had no idea that her dad and Angela had gone to such lengths to make sure they stayed a family, even in the face of tragedy. "But why didn't you ever tell me and Jonathan? And Jonathan's dad agreed to that?"

Angela nodded her head slowly before answering. "We probably should have told you all at some point, but Jonathan was still so young. Your dad and I didn't want him to know that Michael wasn't interested in ever being his father. While not completely amenable to it, he realized it was in Jonathan's best interest and eventually signed the document."

"Thanks, Angela," Sam said with a watery smile as she squeezed the hand that Angela still had resting on her leg.

"We're a family. No matter how unconventional and how things have been the past few months. And we always will be," Angela said with conviction as she took the exit for the hospital.

After racing through the emergency room doors, they were eventually taken to the intensive care unit waiting room, where they waited impatiently for the doctor.

"Angela Bower?" a clean-cut young man asked as he entered the waiting room area, looking up from his clipboard.

"I'm Angela. And this is Samantha Micelli. Tony's daughter," Angela replied as the doctor sat across from them.

"I'm Dr. Harris. From what we've been able to gather, Mr. Micelli was crossing the street when a car at a high rate of speed ran a stoplight and hit him," the doctor said. "He was thrown into the intersection and hit his head on the pavement pretty intensely. He has a dislocated shoulder and some broken ribs, but his head injury is what we're most concerned about. He has some bleeding on the brain that has caused him to fall into a coma."

"A coma?" Angela gasped as she grabbed Sam's hand and held it tightly.

"Is my dad going to wake up?" Sam asked tearfully.

"I wish I could say for certain," Dr. Harris replied gently. "Brain injuries are extremely complicated, and we just don't know at this point. Your dad is young and healthy, so we are optimistic. But the next few days will be critical. If he does wake up, we will have to assess for any brain damage, and he may not be the same person you know."

Angela couldn't contain her emotions any longer and began to weep openly. Taking a deep breath, she controlled herself enough to find her voice.

"What happens now, Doctor?"

"We will monitor him very closely to check for any signs of improvement. We'll have to reassess if there are none after a few days. But, you all should sit with him. Talk to him. Hold his hand. We have found that all of those things can benefit the patient."

"Can we see him now?" Sam asked in a small voice.

"Of course. Room 323," Dr. Harris replied, gesturing towards an open door. "Please, though, don't be alarmed by all the wires and monitors. They are all there to help your dad."

As the trio rose from the chairs, the doctor cleared his throat before speaking.

"Mrs. Bower, I do have a few more questions for you, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Angela replied, her voice apprehensive as she motioned for Sam to go ahead into Tony's room.

"Mr. Micelli was brought in with another person—a pregnant female in her early thirties. Do you know Mr Micelli's relationship to her?" the doctor asked.

"Frankie Candeno. Tony is the father of her baby," Angela said softly, her voice catching. "Are they ok?"

"I'm afraid not. We tried to save them both but ultimately weren't successful. I'm so sorry," Dr. Harris said with sympathy before looking down at Tony's chart.

"You said Mr. Micelli was the father of Ms. Candeno's baby?" he asked.

"Yes, why?" Angela asked quickly.

"That's just not possible," Dr. Harris replied, shaking his head. "The blood types of Mr. Micelli and Ms. Candeno would not allow for the blood type of the baby."

"What?" Angela asked in astonishment as her mind struggled to process everything the doctor had just said. Frankie and the baby were gone? Tony wasn't the baby's father? Frankie lied to him? To all of them?

"Are you all right, Mrs. Bower?" the doctor asked as Angela stumbled backward and sat down.

"Yes, I'm fine," Angela replied. "I just can't believe all of this is happening."

"I understand. It's a lot," the doctor replied. "Do you have any more questions for me right now?"

"I don't think so. Thanks, Doctor," Angela said as she stood up slowly and walked toward Tony's room, her mind swirling as she braced herself for whatever came next…