Chapter 2

The diner was neutral territory, impersonal, sticky tables and the smell of stale grease.

Eleanor looked even more out of place here, perched on the cracked vinyl booth seat.

Sarah sipped her watery coffee, watching her.

"So," Sarah began, "this 'brother' you mentioned."

Eleanor took a deep breath, her composure back in place. "His name is Leo. He's… he's my son. Your half-brother."

Sarah felt nothing, just a weary kind of curiosity.

"He's very sick, Sarah," Eleanor continued, her voice softening with practiced sympathy. "He has leukemia. A rare form."

She paused, letting the words sink in. "He needs a bone marrow transplant. Urgently."

Sarah waited. There was more, there always was with people like Eleanor.

"We've tested everyone," Eleanor said, her gaze intense. "Family, registry donors. No match. But then… I remembered. Your old childhood medical records. I had them checked, discreetly, of course."

Of course.

"You, Sarah," Eleanor leaned forward, her voice dropping. "You are a perfect match. A one in a million chance, the doctors said."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "So, after twenty years, you hunt me down because you need a piece of me."

Eleanor winced. "It's not like that. He's your brother. He has such a bright future. He' s a coding prodigy, already has an offer from MIT."

She painted a picture of a golden boy, a life Sarah couldn't even imagine.

"It' s your sisterly duty," Eleanor finished, a hint of steel in her voice.

Sarah almost laughed. Sisterly duty. After a lifetime of nothing.

She absently rubbed the faint, silvery scar on her forearm, a relic from a hot grease spill at a long-ago fast-food job that paid barely enough to eat.

"Sisterly duty," Sarah repeated, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Funny, I don't remember you having much 'motherly duty'."

Eleanor' s face tightened. "This isn't about the past, Sarah. This is about Leo's life."

"Everything is about the past, Eleanor," Sarah said, her voice cold. "My past, my present, all shaped by you walking out."

She looked Eleanor straight in the eye. "You want my bone marrow? Fine. It'll cost you."

Eleanor looked taken aback. "Cost me?"

"One million dollars," Sarah said, the words clear and hard. "Cash."

Eleanor gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "A million dollars? Are you insane? This is your brother's life! You can't put a price on that!"

"You put a price on my childhood," Sarah retorted. "Turns out it was worthless to you. My bone marrow, however, seems to have value."

"You're being mercenary!" Eleanor hissed, her composure finally cracking.

"I learned from the best," Sarah said, pushing her cup away. The coffee tasted like ash.

Eleanor stared at her, aghast. The perfect socialite, faced with something raw and ugly she couldn't control.

"Think about it," Sarah said, standing up. "You know where to find me if you decide Leo's life is worth the price."