Vanessa knew my blood type.
Dad knew my heart.
“What happens if I’m a match?” I asked.
Vanessa looked up hopefully.
“The doctors would explain everything. There are risks, but—”
“I’m not promising to donate.”
Her hope flickered.
“I’m promising to get tested.”
“You will?”
“Yes.”
Dad touched my elbow.
“You don’t owe anyone that.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to prove that you’re a good person.”
“I know that too.”
I looked at Vanessa.
“I’m not doing this because you interrupted my graduation. And I’m not doing it because you suddenly decided to call yourself my mother.”
Her lips trembled.
“I’ll do it because the man you accused of stealing me raised me to help someone when I can.”
Dad turned away, wiping his face with his sleeve.
I nudged him gently.
“Are those allergies again?”
He laughed through his tears.
“The pollen is terrible today.”
