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The Sister (The Boss 6)

Page 102

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She didn’t have a response.

“You’re saying, ‘Oh, we knew you were okay,’ but you didn’t know because you didn’t bother to know me.” My words wounded her, I could tell from her face. But I was hurt, too.

And just like that, my anger felt righteous. I didn’t need permission to say any of this. I didn’t need permission to be angry with my father, or even with Sasha. Just speaking all that truth out loud validated me. And for the first time, I truly realized that it hadn’t been my fault. Not one bit of it.

I went on, “I spent so many years feeling like I wasn’t allowed to blame him for abandoning me. But it wasn’t me who fucked up. It was him. Don’t you dare try to take that away from me with your justifications.”

Tears rose in Sasha’s eyes, and for a moment, I worried she might storm out. But she just took a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. “I don’t have anything I can say to that, except I’m sorry. If we could do it over, knowing how you feel, now…I wouldn’t have listened to him. I would have chosen much differently.”

“Then, don’t shut me out, now,” I said firmly. “Susan told me that if Molly hadn’t needed a kidney, you guys wouldn’t have ever contacted me. But now, you have contacted me. I’m a part of this, now, whether you want me or not.”

“We couldn’t shut you out, now,” Sasha said with a small laugh. “Molly loves you.”

“Well, I did buy her a lot of stuff. That would have gone really far with me when I was a teenager.” I chewed my lip. “I want you to know that I’m not trying to buy her affection. I just see a lot of me in her, and I want to make her happy.”

“There is a lot of you in her. Or so Susan says.” Sasha shook her head. “Maybe after all of this is over, we could come for a visit. Molly has never been to New York. And we can pay our own way. We’re not going to use you for your money.”

“I never thought you were going to.” I knew that, if they had, Neil would have spotted it from a mile away. “I grew up working class, too. And it might seem like I’ve forgotten the mindset, but it’s still there. Even though I can buy a whole freaking mall, apparently.”

To my surprise, Sasha leaned over and took my hand. She gave it a squeeze. “You’re good people, Sophie. I’m glad we finally got to meet.”

I had to choke back my tears. “Me, too.”

****

The waiting room at Dr. Robinson’s office was surprisingly empty, considering how long I’d waited past my appointment time.

I bounced my knee impatiently. “What the hell is taking so long? I just want either a yes or a no here.”

“You know doctors,” Neil said, also fidgeting. “It’s all hurry up and wait.”

Wasn’t that the truth? During his cancer treatments, even though he’d been spending money on private hospitals, we’d practically memorized the wallpaper in dozens of waiting rooms.

I was an expert on them, now. I gave the place a critical look over. Pastel watercolor-patterned, textured wallpaper? Check. Matching rubber baseboards? Check. Ugly tight-weave carpet? Yup. Fishtank? Those practically came installed.

“I fucking hate these places,” I muttered under my breath.

“Whatever the outcome today, please…” Neil stopped himself.

“You’re going to say, ‘Please don’t be disappointed.’ That’s impossible.” I tried not to sound snappish, though god knew I’d put up with enough snapping from him in medical facilities over the years. “I’m going to be very disappointed if I’m not a match. You can’t ask me not to be.”

“I wasn’t going to say not to be disappointed. I was going to say not to lose hope,” he said gently. “We’ll get Molly a kidney, one way or another.”

“What, like, buy her one?” I scoffed.

His expression remained deadly serious. “You still vastly underestimate the channels that are available to you through our wealth.”

My throat went dry. “Neil, that’s illegal.”

“And it should be illegal for a person to die waiting for an organ because they can’t afford to travel or move somewhere that has a shorter list.” So, he’d been doing his own research into Molly’s cause. “The wealthy are far more likely to receive organ donations than those who aren’t wealthy. Haven’t you ever wondered why that’s the case?”

“I haven’t wondered about organ donation at all,” I admitted. “It never even crossed my mind.”

“Not even when you checked the box on your driver’s license?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. It always just seemed like a given to me. ‘Please use my spare parts.’ And we always joked about my cousin riding a donor cycle when he got his Harley. It wasn’t something I’d thought about deeply. Have you?”



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