Behind the Shadows by Patricia; Potter Page A

ribs.
    â€œKira?”
    â€œI’m here,” she said with a tremor in her voice. “There’s no mistake?”
    â€œNo.” A pause. “What now?” he asked.
    â€œI have to go to Leigh. It would probably be better if the feature had already been published, but every minute counts now.”
    â€œIsn’t it time to contact the hospital?”
    She could go to the hospital. But how long would it take for hospital officials to act? They would go to their attorneys first. An investigation. Meanwhile, her mother’s chances dropped every day. A matter of weeks, according the doctor. Maybe less. She felt the moments ticking away …
    â€œKira?” Chris’s voice was full of concern. She’d told him about the visit, had given him her impression of Leigh Howard. Pleasant but with no real warmth. Plastic more than real. The only time she’d really come alive was when she talked about the horse camp for disabled kids. Maybe because of her own trauma years ago.
    â€œI have to convince her to donate a kidney,” she said. Her one hope for a fast resolution was to contact Leigh Howard and make a personal appeal.
    She remembered the morning earlier in the week when she discovered she might not be who she thought she was. Incredulity. Disbelief. Devastation. A loneliness that couldn’t be defined. A life that was a lie.
    But she’d had her mother. She had memories. She had the comfort of love and support all these years. Leigh had lost hers when she was very young. Would she long for one now, or would anger and doubt keep her from acknowledging the truth?
    â€œAre you still there?” Chris’s voice was worried.
    â€œI’m sorry. I was just thinking how I felt when the test results came in. In that moment, I felt as if I’d lost part of myself, that I was wandering on some strange planet.”
    â€œYou couldn’t lose part of yourself,” he said. “Neither will Leigh Howard, not the important part. Not who she really is inside.” He paused, then said, “You know this could mean something financially,” he said. “I found a copy of the probated will of Ed Westerfield. He left the bulk of his estate in a trust for his granddaughter, Leigh Howard. It looks like you are Leigh Howard.”
    â€œHe left it to the granddaughter he knew,” she said, “and that’s where it should stay.”
    â€œEven if she doesn’t agree to a transplant?”
    Kira didn’t want to go there. She didn’t really want to go anywhere with this. She didn’t want to impact someone else’s life like hers had been. It was an emotional train wreck. Only the necessity of a kidney transplant kept her from staying silent now and forever.
    When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Do you want me to go with you?”
    Kira thought about that. He would give substance to her claim. And that was what it was now. A claim. No fact proved in court. If someone showed up on her doorstep with the story she meant to tell, she’d probably call the police. But then, this was something she should do alone. It was too personal to bring along a stranger.
    â€œThanks. I might ask you to call or see her later, but I think it might be better if I approached her alone.”
    â€œOkay. But call if you need me.”
    â€œI probably will,” she said honestly. “I don’t know what to say, or how to convince her of something that was impossible for me to believe.”
    â€œYou’ll find the words.”
    â€œI hope so.”
    I have to .
    She hung up and sat for a moment, wondering whether she was wrong in refusing his help. And yet in her gut, she felt it was the right thing to do.
    She used her cell phone. “Ms. Howard, please,” she said when the housekeeper answered. Leigh Howard. Her name . Funny how that just sounded. Funny and tragic.
    â€œMs. Howard,” she said when Leigh came on the line.