Page 123 of Crash

She hesitated for just a moment, then reached for my outstretched hand. As our fingers intertwined, I made a silent promise that this time, I wouldn’t let her down.

Behind us, I heard Scarlett whisper to Ryker, “Ten bucks says your sister’s dating either a genius or a serial killer.”

“Twenty says it’s both,” Ryker muttered back, but I barely heard them.

I was already pulling Tessa toward the door, toward answers, toward hope.

Please,I thought,let this be it.

62

TESSA

“It came back positive?” My voice trembled with disbelief.

“See for yourself.” Blake handed me the results, his eyes bright.

For over a year, not a single test had shown anything. Not one. I stared at the paper in my hands, the letters blurring as tears threatened.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “What does it mean?”

We sat in Blake’s office at the hospital. Well, I sat. Blake was too anxious to stay still, wearing a path in the floor as he paced. It was strange, seeing him like this. The usually composed Dr. Morrison was practically vibrating with barely contained energy.

“This is why I wanted my colleague, Dr. Benjamin Hayes, to join us,” Blake said, gesturing to the other doctor. “He’s an expert in this particular area.”

Dr. Hayes leaned forward in his chair, his manner gentle but direct. “Tessa, you recall we took your latest round of blood two weeks ago?”

After the dinner party.

I nodded, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“And then we followed that up with a urine test to confirm our suspicion.”

“Right,” I said, placing the paper down so I could twist my fingers on my lap. “But no one told me why because they didn’t want to get my hopes up.” Especially since I’d been feeling downright lousy lately.

“That initial blood test showed an elevated level of tryptase.”

“Tryptase?” The word felt foreign on my tongue. “No doctor has ever mentioned tryptase to me before.”

Dr. Hayes smiled slightly and nodded. “It’s not something doctors typically test for unless they’re specifically looking for it. When that test came back elevated, we followed it up with a urine test, looking for 11-beta-prostaglandin F2α, prostaglandin D2, and leukotriene E4. They’re specific markers.”

He started to list off some complicated medical terms, but Blake cleared his throat gently when he saw the confused look on my face.

“Right, sorry.” Dr. Hayes softened his approach. “Tessa, after all the tests we’ve run, with these positive markers, we finally have some answers. You have something called mast cell activation syndrome, or MCAS. It’s a rare and complex disorder, and I want to walk you through what that means.”

The words hit me like a tornado. I hadn’t been overreacting. There was something wrong with my body. This was real.

My vision blurred more as additional tears welled up.

“Mast cell activation syndrome?” My voice cracked. “I’ve never heard of that, not even in all my hours of research, trying to self-diagnose on Google.”

Dr. Hayes remained patient, his smile gentle. I glanced at Blake, catching the relief cascading through his shoulders, the slight upturn of his lips. Whatever this was, it must not be fatal then. The knot in my chest loosened slightly.

“Your body has immune cells called mast cells that are supposed to help fight infections and respond to injuries,” Dr. Hayes explained. “They release chemicals like histamine,prostaglandins, and leukotrienes to protect you. But in MCAS, these cells become overly sensitive. They activate when they shouldn’t and release too many compounds, causing a cascade of symptoms all over your body, even when there’s no real threat.”

“Symptoms like mine?” The question tumbled out before I could stop it. This felt too good to be true. Tears spilled down my cheeks before I even knew what this meant. For crying out loud, I should wait to feel this elated until he confirmed I shouldn’t go pick out a coffin during my afternoon errands.

Dr. Hayes nodded. “Mast cells live throughout your body, but they’re concentrated in your GI tract, your lungs, and your skin. Symptoms vary with patients because of that. They can mimic allergies, autoimmune disorders, or even anxiety too.”