The cool evening air hit me as I stepped outside, but it did nothing to quell the fire raging in my chest. Jason and Leslie were nowhere in sight, the taillights of my car disappearing down the street. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I stood on the curb, completely alone.
I flagged down a cab, sinking into the worn leather seat as I gave the driver an address. Not home. Not the station. The hospital.
The envelope still sat in my lap, the edges crumpled from my grip. I stared at it, the weight of its contents suddenly unbearable.
I pulled out my phone and called a number. The clinic receptionist answered after two rings. “Women’s Health Center. How can I assist you?”
I swallowed hard, the words tasting like ash. “I need to schedule an abortion,” I said as tears blurred my eyes.
"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.
And then there was Jason. The man I thought had chosen me. The one person I believed saw me for who I was, not as some charity case. But he, too, had chosen Leslie.
It was always Leslie.
“Paige, she’s not okay,” Jason said, his voice rising in frustration. “You have to do this. You’re her sister. She needs you.”
I met his gaze, steel in my voice. “No.”
The word hung between us.