Page 19 of For Fox Sake

Damn small towns. I should know better. It’s a good thing I remembered all those apartments and condos lining the highway on the drive into town.

“The only thing I know for sure,” since I received the DNA results yesterday, “is we aren’t related.”

Thankfully.

Dad didn’t have a second family, at least not one he donated his chromosomes to. Of course, there was also the possibility of the connection being through Mom and not Dad. Mom took off when I was one and I never knew her, but that possibility has also been negated.

I ransacked Ryan’s trash last Friday night, much to my internal shame and embarrassment. But I got what I needed, which was a bit of her hair. I grew up with five sisters. Their hair is everywhere. Plus Ryan has dark hair, and her daughter has blond hair, so it was easy enough to distinguish. Mailed it off on Saturday, paid for a rush job, and had the results by Thursday afternoon.

We aren’t related. Not even distantly, like a fifth cousin or something. No links.

Along with the relief at not being related to Ryan came a whole lotta confusion. If we had been related, that might have given me some kind of answer. Now it’s back to square one. Why? Why why why, the question that’s been pounding in my head for months now.

Of course, it’s still possible Mia was related to Dad somehow, and not Ryan. If she and Mia weren’t full-blooded sisters, Ryan might not even know it. Maybe Dad donated to a sperm bank, and Ryan’s mom was struggling to conceive. I mean, who knows, right? That would explain why Ryan’s letters always had a lot of information about Mia and her life.

In the meantime, I’ve discovered a way to get more info on Mia. Medical info, anyway.

The admin staff at the hospital has been working on transferring old paper medical files into electronic versions. Everything is locked up in a room on the first floor, with all the file cabinets and scanning equipment.

The keys to the door are in Elaine’s office, in the top drawer of her desk. I caught a glimpse of them when Elaine was telling me about the project yesterday. So now I just need to get into Elaine’s office when she’s not there and get ahold of those keys.

“The strangest part of the whole interaction was how I just opened up to her.” It was the first time I volunteered information about what had happened to my twin to someone else.

“Why do you think you could broach the subject with Ryan?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because she knows what it’s like to lose a sister.”

Her head tilts to one side. “Your sisters also lost a sister. And you’re much closer to them. Plus, you all lost the same sister, even if the relationship dynamics weren’t the same.”

I frown. “I know.” It’s somehow different. Though Mia wasn’t Ryan’s twin. From what I’ve been able to figure out, Mia was about a year younger. “I’m not sure I understand it myself.”

Maybe it’s because we’re closer in age. But that doesn’t quite explain it either. Taylor is only a year older than me. Maybe it’s because Ryan is a stranger. Maybe it’s because she left me money in an envelope slid under the front door to repay me for the groceries. Maybe it’s because there’s something about her mere presence that prickles my skin and sends a ripple of warmth through my body.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t had sex in two years.

Her brows lift. “Do I get to be proud of you for journaling about Aria?”

I wince. “I’m trying.”

Not trying at all. Actively avoiding.

What she’s asking is impossible. It would be easier to pluck the moon from the sky. Every time I try, my mind fixates on the last time I saw her.

Bloodied.

Broken.

My fault.

Bile rises in the back of my throat, along with the usual terror and guilt.

I push the bubbling emotions back down. I can’t even say her name. How can I write down anything about her?

“Think about something that happened a long time ago, when you were little. Or something that involved your other siblings too. I’m sure you have plenty of material.”

She’s not wrong. With five sisters, I could pen a whole saga.

“You could even just write about her physical traits, what she looked like, an outfit you remember her wearing. Literally anything. When you’re done, you can burn it. You don’t have to share it with anyone, not even me. It’s just for you.”

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