
My Mother Gave My Specialist Appointment to My Half-Sister
Chapter 2
I ran with Emma in my arms until I could flag down a car, talking to her the whole way to keep her awake.
By the time we got to the hospital, my legs had given out. Someone had to help me through the doors. I started shouting the second we were inside. Someone took Emma from me and ran. I ran after them, and got stopped at the ER door.
The red light was on.
Mom had followed me. She stood next to me, talking nonstop. About how Emma was sickly. About how if I'd listened to her years ago and tried for a son instead, everything would be different.
I knew the method she meant. When Serena and I were both trying to conceive at the same time, Mom had laid out chicken soup and imported fruit for Serena. What she gave me was the rotting fruit she'd left in the back of her fridge for weeks, told me it was the same folk remedy, good for conceiving a boy.
Just thinking about the smell, my throat still goes tight.
"Enough."
I grabbed her shoulders, hard. "You handed Tyler Emma's medicine. You watched him stomp on it. And now you're standing here telling me Emma is fragile. I don't care if you love Serena. Just stop hurting my kid."
Tears were running down my face. I didn't notice.
Mom hesitated, then said, well, she'd already given the things away, she couldn't ask for them back, and besides we were at the hospital now, weren't we, nothing serious, why was I making a scene over nothing.
The ER doors swung open. The doctor's face was grim. He said Emma was in critical condition. She needed surgery immediately. Family needed to sign and pay.
"Okay, okay." I was grateful, in that moment, that I had savings set aside. I went to pay.
I pulled out my cracked phone with shaking hands.
Balance: zero.
I stared at the number for a few seconds. It didn't register. I'd been putting money in that account for two years. The day Emma was diagnosed, I opened it. Every payday, I moved money in first. Last year my coworkers planned a trip to Hawaii; I skipped it and the airfare went in there. I'd never touched that account. It was for Emma. For an emergency.
I looked up at my mother.
She said Serena had mentioned this morning that her car insurance was due. She'd felt bad. She'd transferred it from my account. Then she paused. "Mia, what's wrong with that account? Even I can't authorize a transfer from it. That's not right, sweetheart. Family shouldn't have walls like that."
I didn't say anything.
She'd already given away one Tesla. Now she'd cleaned out the emergency fund.
I stood there. I didn't move.
That was when Serena walked in. Smiling. "Sorry, drove slow, didn't want to scratch the new car. You good?"
Emma had just been wheeled out of the ER.
That car had been bought with the surgery fund I'd been building for two years.
Emma had almost died today, because her medicine wasn't there.
Her medicine wasn't there because my mother handed it to Tyler.
My mother thought that was fine, because Tyler said he was curious.
And here was Serena, in my car, asking me if I was okay.
"Family, please sign and pay. We don't have time to wait."
I called someone and asked to borrow money. I said the number. My voice was shaking. They said yes. I paid the deposit, signed the papers. My hands still weren't steady.
I looked up and saw my mother holding Serena's hand, fussing over her.
I took two steps forward, lowered my voice. "Give back the money you took from my mother."
Mom got there first. "Mia, Emma just got out of surgery. Why aren't you with her? What are you doing?"
Serena's eyes welled up. In front of Mom, she sobbed about how she'd never really fit into this family, how she still made the effort to come see Carol anyway. I slapped her. The whole hall went quiet. A security guard grabbed me, but I was still screaming at her to give the money back.
My mother stood there for a moment before she walked over. She touched Serena's red cheek. She looked at me with that disappointed expression and said the money was hers to give. Said Serena had done so much for her, she'd earned it. Said God would remember Serena's kindness.
Dad died young. The whole neighborhood had been waiting to see how my mother treated Serena. So she used my things to shut them up. To herself, she was a merciful servant in God's eyes. But for the smallest scraps of kindness from Serena, she would sacrifice me again. And again. And again.
Everything in my ears went to a low ringing. My mother's mouth was opening and closing in slow motion. Serena's face had that smug look. She'd won.
Then Serena reached into her bag and pulled out the appointment slip. The one from the apartment. She'd been holding onto it the whole time. "Mia, you left this at home. The specialist appointment, give it to me, won't you?"
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