Chapter 1 - ASK THE HOUSE
My mother grabbed my coat sleeve before I could walk away from the isolation room.
“Please, Clara.” Her pearl bracelet struck against my wrist as she tightened both hands around me. “He’s your brother.”
I pulled free so sharply she stumbled into my father.
Behind the glass, Daniel stood in a hospital gown with one trembling hand pressed against the window. His skin had turned the color of wet concrete. Purple bruises covered his forearms where nurses had drawn blood.
Dr. Ethan Cole waited beside the door with a clipboard and an unsigned consent form.
“We’re only asking permission to test you,” my mother continued. “Siblings are often the best stem-cell matches. Daniel may not have much time.”
Three years earlier, my eight-year-old daughter had not had much time either.
Her name was Lily.
She loved purple markers, cheese pizza without the crust, and collecting smooth rocks from the edge of Lake Erie. She had acute lymphoblastic leukemia and a chance to enter a specialized treatment program in Boston.
The clinic required a ninety-two-thousand-dollar deposit.
My parents told me they could not spare a cent.
Twenty-three days later, they gave Daniel a four-bedroom house in Lakewood as a wedding present.
Lily died that November.
Now my mother stood between me and the hospital exit as though my body were another family account she could withdraw from.
“This is different,” she said.
I looked at her.
“Of course it is. Daniel has something you value.”
My father, Robert Pierce, lowered his head. He had barely looked at me since I arrived at St. Vincent Medical Center.
“We made a mistake,” he whispered.
“No. You made a purchase.”
Daniel closed his eyes behind the glass.
Dr. Cole shifted uncomfortably. “Ms. Pierce, no one here will pressure you. We need a blood sample for HLA typing, but the decision is entirely yours.”
My mother stepped closer.
“Clara, he could die.”
I picked up my black handbag from the waiting-room chair.
Her face crumpled.
“What are you doing?”
I met her eyes.
“Ask the house.”
Dr. Cole’s pen stopped above the form.
“So that’s a…?”
“A no.”
My mother gasped.
I turned toward the elevator, but a weak knock sounded behind me.
Daniel’s knuckles tapped the isolation glass.
May you like
When I looked back, he held a yellow envelope against the window.
My daughter’s name was written across it.
