Trail of Broken Wings Read Online Free PDF Page A

seconds ago. “And without the machines?”
    “Though he is technically in a coma, essentially a deep sleep, his body is reliant upon the respirator and fluids.” David slips his hands into his pockets, his white coat pushed back. A stethoscope hangs around his neck. Marin assumes he is younger than she is, but recently she has begun to believe everyone is. “When he was admitted, he was in respiratory failure. The respirator helps his body to breathe.” He pauses, trying to prepare them for the news that no family could bearto hear. With a deep sigh and sympathy mixed with apology, he says, “Without the respirator, he wouldn’t get enough oxygen.”
    Sonya listens carefully, analyzing every word. “And without oxygen he would die.”
    Marin watches her, still smarting from their encounter the night before. Sonya was born after their arrival in America. Their parents had made plans to abort her—she was an accident, after all. A broken condom brought her to life. Cheap latex bought from a discount store in India and stuffed into the suitcase set for the States. Marin heard the story often growing up. In front of Sonya, Brent would repeat the tale, each time laughing louder than before. An elaborate joke no one understood.
    The cost of another child was too high, and an abortion was the obvious choice. But Brent was desperate for a son. Using a low-cost ultrasound machine, the community clinic doctor made an educated guess and told them it was a boy. Overjoyed, Brent made the decision for Ranee to continue with the pregnancy, taking extra shifts to cover the cost of the medical care. At the birth, fury filled Brent’s face when the doctor announced he had another daughter.
    Once born, Sonya became Marin’s responsibility while their mother worked in the local factory making children’s underwear. Marin changed Sonya’s diaper, fed her milk from a bottle, and bathed her when she spit up. Before hitting puberty, Marin was already a mother.
    “How long will it take him to die? If they pull the plug?” Gia asks. She’s been sitting quietly next to Raj. Still in her tennis uniform from her lesson that morning, she crosses one slim leg over the other. Tendrils from her ponytail fall onto her face, giving the false illusion that she is younger than her years.
    “Gia,” Marin says, raising her voice to grab her attention. At that specific pitch, her voice sounds exactly like Brent’s. “This is not the place for you to speak. Dr. Ford is very busy.”
    “It’s fine.” David smiles to ease the sting of Marin’s rebuke. “Your question is very important.” He is kind to Gia though he does not have to be. “As doctors, we need to know exactly how long the body will survive. It will help us minimize the amount of suffering.”
    “He will be in pain?” Ranee steps forward, demanding David’s attention. She has stayed primarily in the background, listening rather than speaking.
    It has always been their mother’s way to observe instead of lead. They say a child chooses one parent as a model to replicate. Marin made the decision as a young girl that it would not be Ranee. It wasn’t conscious or a process she gave much thought to. In fact, if asked now she would struggle to pinpoint the exact moment. But it was very simple really. Given the choice between strong and weak, it seemed obvious to her to choose strength, no matter what form it came in.
    “He will feel the hunger, the loss of breath?” Ranee asks.
    “We would do everything in our power to make sure he doesn’t. I promise you that.” David takes her hand and squeezes it once. Marin catches the interplay.
    Ranee nods, turning to Brent’s still body in the hospital bed. After his arrival at the hospital via ambulance, they dressed him in a gown—one he would surely hate. Always meticulous with his clothes—every shirt pressed and his pants crease free—he demanded his children be the same.
    “He does not like to suffer.” Ranee wraps her