My Double Life by Janette Rallison

firm sense of who you were, to be grounded before you met him, so no matter how it turned out, you wouldn’t be devastated.”
    I wouldn’t listen to her words; I wouldn’t let them soak in. “You should have told me,” I said. “I shouldn’t have had to find out like this.”
    “I didn’t mean for this to happen. If I had known Kari Kingsley would show up here . . .” My mother gripped the edge of the desk, clenching it. “Does she know? Is that why she’s here?”
    “No, she doesn’t know. She’s here to convince me to take the job, and I’m going to.”
    The words made something in Mom’s expression change. She snapped back to being herself. “You can’t just drop everything and run off to California.”
    “Yes I can.” I turned and headed toward the door. “I guess I’m more impulsive than you thought.”
    My mother followed, switching into Spanish. “ Te tratarán como suciedad.” They’ll treat you like dirt. “Is that what you want? Is the money worth your dignity? If it is, we might as well get a lawyer and just ask for back child support.”
    “This isn’t about the money,” I said. “This is about me finally figuring out the other half of me—the half you’ve always kept a secret.”
    She took hold of my arm, stopping me as I reached the hallway. “You don’t need to go anywhere to figure out who you are. You’re Alexia Garcia: a beautiful, smart, talented girl. Can’t you see that?”
    I pulled my arm away from her. “You don’t understand this.” She couldn’t. She’d always known both of her parents. She hadn’t grown up half empty.
    “I understand—you’re doing this because you’re mad at me. It’s a bad reason, Lexi.” She reached out again but didn’t touch my arm. “Think about it before you get caught up with these people.”
    “Why should I, when you didn’t?” I turned and walked away from her, but I could feel her watching my every step.
    I went to the service elevator, stood inside shaking, and stared at the buttons.
    Despite the scene with my mother, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t even know what to say to Kari. Did I tell her she was my half sister? What exactly was the proper etiquette for announcing that sort of thing? It had been a huge shock to me, and I’d had at least a little forewarning. I’d always known I had a father somewhere, and I might have brothers or sisters. But how would Kari take the news about what her father had done? How would she feel about a sister—about me being her sister?
    I looked down at my worn tennis shoes and their fraying laces, at my faded jeans, and my nondescript T-shirt. I compared them to her outfit, right down to her cosmopolitan red heels and flashy gold earrings. I was glad she didn’t know who I was, and I wasn’t going to break the news to her. Not now. Not until I’d talked to Alex Kingsley. Alex Kingsley—that’s who he was to me. I couldn’t call him my father, not even in my mind.
    I imagined myself telling him. I saw his face now, where before there had only been a blurry guy standing beside a horse.
    Was it possible he would be happy, that he’d want to be some sort of father to me?
    But, then again, if he hadn’t cared enough about my mother to even call her, why would he care about me? Maybe he’d call me a gold digger too. I didn’t know anything about him or how he’d react.
    I leaned against the elevator wall. Maybe my mom was right and it was better to have a lawyer contact him and ask for a DNA test. Only, getting a lawyer seemed like mounting an attack against him. If he felt attacked, I’d lose the chance to ever have a real relationship with him.
    I pictured meeting him at some posh lawyer’s office. My mom and I would drive there in our beat-up Taurus with a three-inch crack in the windshield and a side mirror that had been superglued back into place after Abuela had knocked it off while backing out of the garage.
    He’d be so impressed with us.
    It was better to