I leaned my arm away from her. “How could you leave an innocent baby to suffer in a hospital after adopting me?”
Mom and Dad looked over at each other and I took a moment to draw in a deep breath. As newscasters rattled off what they thought they knew, my hands balled up into fists at my side. I heard them mention my sister’s name, Rachel. I heard them mention her arrest record, multiple counts of murder and an outstanding warrant for her arrest. I slowly turned to face them as they talked about hitmen and contracts. Her supposed ties to the seedy underbelly of our country and how she bounced around from foster home to foster home, challenging authority wherever she went.
All because she had been rejected at birth.
Though, they conveniently left that part out of the narrative.
“All right, everyone!” a doctor exclaimed way too close to my ear as he stepped out of the emergency room. “The lockdown has been lifted! Everyone can come inside now!”
The thunderous sound of footsteps stampeded toward me, and had it not been for my parents yanking me out of the way, I may not have moved. I may have actually allowed them to trample me, because anything was better than the empty ache I felt deep within the pit of my soul. They were nowhere to be found. It was as if they had never existed. The newscasters never mentioned their names. I didn’t hear their bikes revving off in the distance. My heart shattered into a million pieces as I finally managed to swallow it back down, and the shards raked against my insides as my soul broke.
They were gone.
And I’d never get the chance to tell them how much I had come to love them.
“Miss!”
I drew in a deep breath as I wiped at the tears leaking down my face.
“Miss!”
“Honey?” Mom asked softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I think that doctor is talking to you.”
I cleared my throat and turned around. “I know. What can I do for you, Doctor?”
A tired man in a white coat trotted up to me. “You know what I’m about to ask, don’t you?”
“We don’t,” Dad said, stepping in front of me.
I inched out from around him and walked up to the doctor’s side. “What does she need?”
“No,” Mom said curtly.
“She needs blood,” the doctor said, “and as much of it as you can spare. You’re the best candidate, and her best chance at pulling through this.”
“Absolutely not,” Dad said, stepping back in front of me.
“You do not have our permission,” Mom said.
The doctor peeked over my father’s shoulder at me. “With all due respect to you both, it’s her decision.”
Both of my parents whipped around on me.
“Don’t do this,” Dad said.
“She doesn’t deserve your help. Did you listen to any of those newscasters over there?” Mom asked.
Dad took my hands within his. “Just come home with us. We can clean you up. Get you some rest. Whatever you need.”
“Let’s just go home, okay?” Mom asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
But I simply pulled my hands away from my father. “Yes, Doc. Whatever you need, I can help.”
“What?!” Mom exclaimed.
“I will not allow this,” Dad said as he pointed to the ground, as if he were making some kind of argument that he figured I’d listen to.
I had changed, though. My men had changed me. The entire situation had changed the scope through which I viewed my entire life, and the words fell effortlessly from my lips as I stood beside the man in the white coat.
