The Deadliest Strain

Chapter Forty-Four

There were nine regional hospitals tied into Kerrnanshah University of Medical Sciences. Taleghani Hospital was one of their smallest, but it was the best. Fahimah had heard this much from her cousin Ashraf.

The van that had met them at the airport reached the hospital and pulled up to the front door of the 1970s-era brick building. They both thanked the driver and got out.

Fahimah's nerves were getting the best of her. She could feel her knees shaking. Putting one foot in front of the other was a major feat.

"Your cousin mentioned that Rahaf was being kept sedated," Austyn reminded her. He had grown serious the moment they'd left the airport.

Fahimah nodded. She would have to be happy with whatever time she got with Rahaf, even if it were only a chance to look at her. To touch her hand, her face.

They reached the door. A doorman opened it for them. In the lobby a balding, distinguished-looking man wearing glasses and dressed in a suit and dress shirt, but no tie, came toward them.

"Welcome, Dr. Banaz, Mr. Newman." He greeted them in English. "I am Dr. Mansori."

Fahimah realized that Ashraf had called and made all these arrangements. She wondered if Austyn minded that this man knew his real name. He didn't seem to as he shook his hand.

Dr. Mansori was the director of the hospital. Fahimah knew Austyn had been surprised by what he'd seen in Halabja, but he betrayed no surprise with anything that was happening here. Dr. Mansori was in charge of the hospital, and yet he was a working physician, visible and available day to day. And he spoke excellent English.

"We're so glad you have come," Mansori said, speaking directly to her. "Since they brought your sister here a week ago, she has declined steadily. I believe she knows it is her time, but she is trying to make life easier for all those around her."

Fahimah willed herself not to cry, to stay strong. "Is she heavily sedated?"

"She was," Dr. Mansori told her, "until I received the call from Halabja last night. We have cut the morphine. She is in pain, but when I saw her an hour ago, she was gaining consciousness, recognizing people around her. She would want it this way… to see you."

"Does she know I'm coming?" Fahimah asked.

The physician nodded. "I told her this morning." Behind the thick glasses, his eyes were welling with tears. "I have known and worked with your sister on many different occasions over the past few years. Frequently, she has contacted me to accept patients that she felt needed to be hospitalized from the refugee camps. I do not know if you have heard the nickname the people have for her."

Fahimah nodded. "Firishte… the angel."

"And she truly is an angel." Dr. Mansori smiled. "I must tell you, though, that I have never seen your sister as happy as today, when I told her you were coming."

Fahimah's eyes burned with unshed tears. "Will you take me to her?"

The doctor stretched a hand in the direction that they should go. He led them up a set of stairs. Austyn and Dr. Mansori talked, but Fahimah didn't hear a word of their exchange. She was lost in a different time.

Two girls, holding each other in their mother's kitchen, staring out over the body of their father at the sea of dead friends and neighbors on their street.

She and Rahaf were two lonely souls who only had each other left. This had been the story of their life. Only fifteen months apart, they were each other's shadow, each other's soul. There were two hearts in their bodies but they pulsed as one.

'This is it, khanoom."

Rahaf's door was open. Two people and a nurse who were inside saw Fahimah and quickly came out. They each said something kind to her as they passed, but again she couldn't hear.

Fahimah stepped through the doorway. She looked at the bed, and her tears began to fall.

Rahaf lay on the high hospital bed. She, who had once been so young and vibrant and full of health, was now a mere skeleton. The missing leg created a void that was visible under the smooth white blanket. Her green eyes tried to focus as she lifted her hand.

"Fahimah?"

She didn't remember taking the steps, but she was there, next to her sister, holding her in her arms.

They'd spent a lifetime apart, but they were one again.