"Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Jason’s voice cut through the sterile hospital corridor.
I didn’t even think he would see me as he was busy with Leslie. I was here for my abortion.
“Paige!” He called, pulling me to face him. His face was flushed, his eyes frantic. “Leslie needs you,” he said, his grip tightening. “She needs blood because she is anemic due to stress, Paige. There’s not enough supply with her type and you both have the same type.”
I stared at him, cold and unblinking. “Why would I donate blood?”
He blinked, as if the question was absurd. “Because she’s your sister!”
“Sister?” The word slipped out, bitter and biting. A humorless laugh followed. “Right, my sister. I almost forgot about that?”
I felt pain. Memories flooded in, sharp and unforgiving. Leslie wasn’t really my sister. We’d both been adopted, two strangers forced into the same family. But that was where the similarity ended.
Leslie had always been the golden child. The one my parents doted on, showered with love and attention while I was left in the shadows. Even though we were both adopted, I was the extra piece they tolerated. The reminder of a choice they’d rather forget.