Flashes of the past hit me in quick spurts. Madison’s time away during the foreign exchange program. Her less than frequent calls home. When she got back, she was a totally different person. She’d changed. She wasn’t my twin anymore, but someone else entirely.
Could it be?
No. My parents would never keep something like that from me.
But what if they did? That would change everything. Everything I knew to be true about my parents and Madison.
And there is one question I need answers to.
Who is the father?
“I’ll give you both a minute.”
Baz helps me back into my seat, and I stare blankly ahead, trying to make sense of this. There has to be a mistake. It can’t be possible. Because what are the odds? What are the odds Ava is my sister’s daughter, and she would come into my life by accident, just like the way she had?
“You need to get up, because there’s a little girl out there that needs you.”
I suck in a sharp breath at the replayed line, the sound of Madison’s voice. I didn’t understand it at the time. I just thought she meant Ava. When Ava was a lonely child, but now, now, what if she was trying to tell me Ava wasn’t just a random child? What if she was put in my path because Madison needed me to keep her safe?
I clench my eyes shut and let the tears trek down my cheeks. I need answers, and I hate that the only way I’ll be able to find out the truth is through my parents. After the way they so callously cut me out of their lives and washed their hands of me, the last thing I want to do is have to ask them for anything, but I need to know.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking a whole lot of shit right now that makes no sense.”
“We’ll have them run it again. Make sure there isn’t a mistake.”
“And if there isn’t? What if it’s the same result over and over again?”
There’s a long pause. It’s long enough that I peel my eyes open and glance up at him. He’s staring down at me thoughtfully. Something in his expression doesn’t sit right with me. “Is there—is there something you’re not telling me?”
I shift away from him, angry that he has the audacity to make me seem like I’m the one keeping everyone’s secrets, when he has a whole fucking closet full of them. “No. I’ve told you everything. And if you’re insinuating that I had a child, you’re dead wrong. I didn’t even lose my virginity until I left Ferndale. There’s no way my child would be Ava’s age.”
He blows out a gust of breath. “So, what then?”
I pause, nibbling on my bottom lip, debating on whether or not I should tell him.
“The summer that Madison died, she had just gotten back from a foreign exchange program. That’s probably why you didn’t see her around much.” Baz’s eyebrows raise. He’s taken aback by the information. “She didn’t call home much. I just thought…I thought she was having fun out there, enjoying being away from me. From that shit town. But now, now I’m wondering if that’s why she was gone. She stayed for two semesters. That’s not long enough to carry a child, but if she was already pregnant and left when she started to show? She could’ve given birth there and let her body return to normal before coming back.”
Baz rakes a hand through his hair. “There’s only one way to find out.”
I start shaking my head, already knowing what he’s going to say. “No. I can’t. They put me in a mental institution, Baz. I refuse to have anything to do with them anymore.”
“They did. And that was fucked up. But do you really want to spend the rest of your life not knowing?”
I glare at him. Hating his logic. Hating that he’s right. What I hate even more? Knowing that I’ll follow through. I’ll reach out to them because I can’t not know the truth.
We spend the next hour and a half waiting for news on Ava, and when the doctor comes out, he explains what happened.
“Let me start by saying that your daughter is going to be fine. She’s stable and asleep. She’ll be a little tired from the loss of blood and the transfusion. The issue wasn’t just that she cracked her head open. It was that she has a blood disorder. Hemophilia, when left undiagnosed, is dangerous. The simplest cuts can become an issue because the blood refuses to clot. Ava, in particular, is a difficult case because she exceeds most of the risk factors for blood disorders. It’s my belief, after witnessing the progression of her blood loss today, that she has a severe case of hemophilia.
“Hemophilia is generally classified by any particular coagulation factor that’s missing, and Ava is missing quite a few. She’s deficient in factors 7, 8, 9, 11, and 12. Because she’s missing so many of these coagulation factors, her body is simply incapable of stopping blood loss. No matter how much pressure you apply to the wound, it won’t clot. Though severe, this can be treated with medications and transfusions, like we administered today, to chemically stop the flow and clot the wound.
“We have her blood results, stating what factors are of concern. I would suggest buying her a medical alert bracelet, in case anything like this happens again, when either of you aren’t around. It’s rare, nowadays, that doctors aren’t able to diagnose a hemophilia patient, but if this accident had been on a larger scale, it could’ve gone either way. You’re both very lucky it was only a cracked head and not something life threatening.
“I want to prescribe some iron pills as well. Her iron deposits are extremely low, which aren’t helping with the clotting process either. She has four stitches that will dissolve on their own. The nurse will give you cleaning instructions, but it’s pretty straightforward. Please do not hesitate to bring her in if she experiences any more excessive bleeding or what you may suspect is internal bleeding.” He must notice the frightened expression on our faces because he softens, stepping into us and setting a careful hand on Baz’s shoulder. “I know this is a lot for you both to take in, but your daughter is going to be okay. She is being moved into another room at the moment, and once the nurses have her settled, you both can stay in there with her.”
Baz and I spend the night at the hospital beside Ava’s bed, and I refuse to take my gaze off her the entire time. My chest is tight for so many reasons. I’m glad she’s okay, I’m angry with myself for letting this happen, and I’m scared I didn’t know my sister as well as I thought I did. There is so much going on in my head, and I just want it all to stop.
The next morning, when Ava stirs, I can’t even hold back my sob when I have her back in my arms. I was so afraid I would lose her. I was so afraid I’d fucked it all up
I don’t want to think about the possibility of us truly being related. I don’t want to think about Vincent, Zach, or any of the Savages. I just want to focus on my daughter.
Baz drives us home. We haven’t spoken a word to each other since the possible ‘Madison having a child’ bombshell dropped. I get the feeling he’s processing, trying to work out how it could be possible, while I’m doing much of the same thing. I can’t help but wonder that, if it is true, how was I so blind? If they did, how did my family keep a secret as huge as this from me?