“Like with relatives,” she says. “He could be your father. Or an uncle. But the markers point to a close blood relation.”
I turn to Simona.
Her face drains of color.
“We can continue the blood donation in the room, miss,” the nurse says. “Miss?”
The hallway fades, and the voices blur.
My mother never told me who my biological father was. I always imagined someone who didn’t want me. Someone who walked away without looking back. I never let my mind go anywhere near Judge Harrington.
I nod.
The nurse guides me back into the room. My legs move on their own. I lower myself into the chair again.
Her voice comes from far away now. “We can run a DNA test if you would like to know for sure. We will need Mrs. Harrington’s permission first.”
I nod, and roll my sleeve up.
Take it all, I think.Every drop you need.
I need him to live.
I need answers.
Why did you leave me? Why did you leave my mother?
Dios, por favor.
A tear slips down my cheek.
I don’t pray. I never have. Belief never gave me anything to hold on to.
But my lips still move.
And for the first time, I hope something out there is listening.
That sucker has to live to give me answers I need.
TWELVE
CARMEN
The nurse takes the blood she needs, and the room tilts when she pulls the needle free. I see Catherine and Judas walk toward the judge’s room. I want to follow them, but my legs are shaking. I need Judas. But I stay, because I know Judas needs them more than he needs me now.
I make my way to the waiting room. The corridor spins as I sit down in one of the empty chairs. Simona finds me staring at a dark speck on the floor.
“The nurse says you should go home and rest,” she says. “Do you want me to take you?”
The chair beside me dips.
Judas sits down.
He lifts his chin at her once and shakes his head.
That’s a no, Simona.
“I didn’t ask you,” she snaps, reaching for me.
