Chapter 2

I've been taking this medicine for three years.

It doesn't treat the tumor.

It only dulls the pain for a while, and the side effects are severe.

Years ago, doctors already classified it as a high-risk medication that should only be used with extreme caution.

But it's cheap.

And cheap fits the life my family wants me to believe we have.

So they keep giving it to me.

Again and again.

The candy isn't any better.

It's the cheapest kind from the grocery store downstairs, made with artificial sweeteners and food coloring.

A huge bag costs only a few dollars.

Even details this small are part of the act.

For three years, they have thought of everything.

I open my mouth.

My throat feels dry.

“Do I have to take them?”

Mom immediately sets the tray down and walks over.

She touches my forehead.

“What is it, Nora? Are you feeling worse?”

Dad lets out a long sigh.

His shoulders sink.

“It’s my fault,” he says.

“If I made more money, we could afford better medicine.”

He looks at the pills in Mom's hand.

“But this is all I can give you.”

Behind him, Ryan suddenly kicks the doorframe.

“Nora, seriously?”

I look at him.

His face is full of anger.

“Do you have any idea what this family has gone through because of you?”

He points toward Mom and Dad.

“Dad works construction all day. Mom cleans houses until she can barely stand.”

Then he points at himself.

“Adrian and I take delivery after delivery just to pay for your medicine.”

His voice rises.

“Everyone in this family is working around you.”

“And you're complaining about the pills?”

I say nothing.

Ryan looks even more offended.

“You should be grateful we can afford anything at all.”

The performance gets better every second.

Olivia steps forward too.

Her eyes are already red.

“Nora, please just take them.”

She presses her lips together.

“That medicine costs almost two hundred dollars.”

She looks down at her dress and pulls lightly at the fabric.

“I work all day at the café and still can't make that much.”

Her voice trembles.

“I've been wearing this same dress forever.”

She gives me a sad little smile.

“Because every extra dollar goes toward your treatment.”

I stare at her.

The white dress is plain.

Cheap-looking.

Carefully chosen.

Of course it is.

Adrian stands near the door.

He doesn't come closer.

He only looks at me and says quietly,

“Take the medicine.”

That's all.

For a few seconds, no one moves.

Then I hold out my hand.

Mom places the pills in my palm.

I swallow them.

The familiar bitterness slides down my throat.

A few seconds later, pain twists through my stomach.

Mom finally relaxes.

She smiles and strokes my head.

“Good girl.”

Her voice is warm again.

“That's our Nora.”

Dad nods quickly.

“You were never a burden to us.”

His eyes turn red.

“You're our daughter.”

“We'd sell everything we own if that's what it takes to save you.”

I almost laugh.

Instead, I close my eyes.

A few minutes later, they leave.

The door clicks shut.

Their footsteps fade down the hall.

The room finally goes quiet.

They think I've fallen asleep.

Then voices start drifting in from the living room.

Olivia laughs first.

“God, Ryan. That was actually good.”

I open my eyes.

She keeps talking.

“All that guilt about everyone working themselves to death?”

She laughs again.

“She had no choice but to take the pills.”

Ryan sounds pleased with himself.

“You weren't bad either.”

“What was that?”

He copies her voice.

“‘I work at a café all day and still can't afford your medicine.’”

Olivia laughs.

“And the dress.”

Ryan snorts.

“You were acting like you haven't bought new clothes in three years.”

“Meanwhile, you spent twenty grand on Chanel yesterday.”

Their laughter reaches my room.

I stare at the ceiling.

Mom doesn't laugh.

After a moment, she speaks.

“Are we taking this too far?”

The room outside gets quieter.

“I don't know how much longer I can do this.”

Her voice shakes slightly.

“She looks worse every day.”

“What if she doesn't make it?”

Ryan sounds irritated.

“The doctors said she has months left.”

My fingers curl into the blanket.

Months.

He continues.

“We've already come this far.”

“If we stop now, then what was the point of everything she's been through?”

A pause.

“It's only two more days.”

“Bennett Medical has treated thousands of brain tumor patients.”

His voice is completely calm.

“You really think we can't save one Nora Bennett?”

Dad sighs.

“Exactly.”

“This is when we learn the truth.”

“When someone has nothing left, that's when you find out what they really care about.”

He pauses.

“Nora is sick. She's scared. She's completely dependent on us.”

“If she still chooses this family now, then we'll know she never came back for the money.”

Mom speaks again.

“But—”

Olivia cuts her off.

“Mom.”

Her voice turns soft.

Almost hurt.

“Are you starting to feel sorry for Nora?”

A short silence.

“Or are you blaming me for suggesting the test?”

“I didn't say that.”

“But you were thinking it.”

Olivia's voice trembles.

“Don't you think the timing was strange?”

“She spent her whole life without us.”

“Then suddenly, right after she got sick and couldn't afford treatment, she went looking for her biological parents.”

My chest tightens.

Olivia continues.

“If she hadn't gotten cancer, would she ever have looked for you?”

“If she hadn't run out of options, would she have wanted this family at all?”

Her voice gets quieter.

“I just wanted to know.”

“When Nora came back, was she looking for Mom and Dad?”

“Or was she looking for someone to pay her medical bills?”

There is silence again.

Then Olivia speaks to someone else.

“Adrian?”

I hold my breath.

“You're her fiancé.”

“You're the one who's supposed to spend the rest of your life with her.”

“Do you think we're being cruel too?”

For one stupid second, I wait.

I wait for Adrian to say enough.

I wait for him to say I've suffered enough.

I wait for him to feel even a little guilty.

Then his voice comes through the wall.

Cold.

Steady.

“I'll marry Nora.”

My eyes burn.

“But the woman I marry can't be someone who chose me for money.”

A pause.

“So yes.”

“She has to finish the test.”