24. Sarah
24
SARAH
“Hello, my name is Claire, and I'm a reporter. I'd like to speak with Miss Brown about the current news regarding her father. I believe the news that's been going around is not true, and I would like a chance to sit with her so I can hear her side of the story.”
“No,” my aunt says.
“Listen to me, I am an independent reporter, and I'm not here under any obligation but my desire to tell the truth. I just want to give Sarah a chance to tell her own side of the story.”
My aunt looks from where she's standing at the door to me, drawing the lady's attention.
“Is she in there? Ma'am, please let me in so I can speak with her.”
Sheila presses her lips together at the look on my face.
This is the last thing I need. Or want.
“Sarah is not here, and don't come back to my house again looking for her because she won't be granting you or anyone an interview in the future.”
She slams the door in the lady's face and turns to face me.
I don't have to say anything for her to know I disapprove.
“Don't start with me, young lady. I did what is best for you, and we will not talk about it,” she says and goes to sit, not caring if the lady is still remaining at the door, still in shock from how she spoke to her.
Something tells me my aunt wants us to talk about it. If not, she wouldn't have given me an explanation. So, I go to sit beside her, not saying anything. It takes a minute for her to break.
Groaning, she throws her hands up in her hair and speaks. “Fine, I shouldn't have cut her off like that, but would you have me do? She's a reporter. She's no different than everyone else running whatever they like about you.”
“She did say she's an independent reporter,” I throw out.
“And so? You want me to bring her in here and tell her the reason you're not saving your father's life is because you're pregnant and that you'd rather the father of the child doesn't know because you think he'll leave you?”
When she puts it like that…
“Aunt Sheila,” I say and sigh.
“Do you want me to call her back in here?” she asks.
“I want a chance to clear my name.”
“Then you better be ready to tell the truth because that lady out there is not Ian. She doesn't care about you, and she will see right through your bullshit within minutes, but be my guest if you still want to talk to her.”
She stands up and walks back into the room, leaving me alone to my thoughts.
I mull over her words. To a very large extent, she's right. The reporter doesn't really care about me. She may say now that she's all about telling the truth, but the moment she gets ahold of it, who knows what she'll do with it?
Besides, am I ready to have my life out there for the whole world to pick apart?
I can't do it.
Not when I know what it'll do to Olivia.
And Ian, if he finds out from the news that I'm pregnant with his child and didn’t tell him.
I change my posture on the sofa and allow myself to lie down with no definite decision on what I'm going to do just yet.
I must have slept at some point because suddenly, I'm jolting awake to the sound of someone knocking on the door. I stand up to answer it, but my aunt beats me to it.
“You again. I told you to leave and never come back here.”
“I know ma'am, but I just need a few minutes with her, please. I'm trying to help her, except you don't want her name cleared. You prefer that the whole world keep believing she's a cruel person who is refusing to save her father because he left her and her mother at a young age for another woman, because that's what the news is saying, and I can guarantee you that it's going to get worse.”
“Let her in.” The words leave my mouth easily.
“Sarah!” my aunt snaps at me in protest.
“Please,” I whisper.
“Ma'am, please, I just want to help.” The reporter speaks at the same time as me.
My aunt struggles to come up with a decision, but eventually, she gives up and steps aside for the lady to come in.
“Thank you,” she whispers to her fervently.
My aunt rolls her eyes and motions for her to come in quickly.
I smile at the lady as she comes toward me, her palm outstretched.
“Claire Henderson. I'm an independent reporter. It's an honor to finally meet you, Miss Brown, and your books are amazing.”
She's good with words, I'll give her that.
Taking her hand, I shake it.
“The pleasure is mine. Please, take a seat.” I motion to the sofa at the other end of the living room, wanting to sit beside my aunt.
She doesn't protest. And my aunt comes to sit beside me.
I expect my aunt to offer her refreshment, but she doesn't, and that's when I confirm she still isn't on board with her presence here. I better get things over with, then.
“So Claire, you say you can help me. How?”
She smiles at my words, and she starts to take a book and pen out of her bag. She also pulls out her phone.
“This conversation can't be recorded,” I immediately inform her.
She nods at me. “I know. My phone is not on record, but if at any point you want me to record, I'll bring out my recorder.”
“No, no recording,” my aunt snaps. Glancing at her, I give her a look. and she huffs at me. She can't even try to pretend to be okay with this. Fine.
“That won't be necessary.”
“I understand,” Claire responds and sticks with her notepad and pen. “Now, back to how I can help you, just in case you've not been following the news, which I'm seventy percent sure you haven't been doing. And I get it. It's what I would do too, but I need you to know that it's not fun out there. And you need to be honest with me. Do you have any idea who might have let it out in the first place that you were helping your father? Who are the people aware of the decision?”
That's simple. There's only one name that comes to my mind.
Lauren.
But I'm not stupid enough to just throw her name out without any evidence except the fact that I think she's a deceitful snake of a person.
“I can't say for sure, but I know I only discussed it with my stepbrother and my dad before I came to New Jersey. Ian didn't even… Never mind. What I'm saying is, no one except my aunt, my step-siblings, and my dad knew.”
“Hmmm.” She looks at me skeptically.
I know she didn't miss the Ian slip-up, but he has nothing to do with this, and it was a stupid mistake saying his name. It won't be repeated.
“Your aunt certainly didn't let out the news, and neither did your father because he's been stuck in bed for days now, so that leaves us with your step-siblings. Which of them do you think would be desperate enough to want to do something like this just to ensure you don't back out on your words?”
Well, I don't know, let me think.
Is it Peter, who hunted me down just a few hours after agreeing to save our father, or Lauren, who I know had nothing but fake love for me and got pissed off when I wouldn't continue with her charade of wanting to get to know me?
I don't really know. My gut says it's Lauren. She looks capable of it. But I don't want to throw anyone’s name out based on what I think.
“I don't know. I don't know either of them that well.”
She makes a noncommittal sound and chews on her lips. She hasn't once written down anything I've said so far, and I point that out.
“Well, that's because you've not really told me anything I can write down. I think you know which of your siblings sold you out, but you won't tell me out of some misplaced loyalty. But it's alright. If you won't tell me anything else, then at least tell me why you changed your mind about saving him? What did the doctor say to you?”
Silence falls over the room. Exchanging a skeptical look with my aunt, she gives me an ‘I told you this would happen’ look.
Swallowing, I turn to face Claire. “It’s a blood compli?—”
“… Blood complication issue, I know. That’s what we've been reading on the news, but you and I both know that's not true.”
I should have listened to my aunt.
I shouldn't have allowed this.
“If you don't believe me, then there's no reason for us to continue with this. Please leave,” I say in a final tone and get on my feet.
Claire stares at me for a few seconds, trying to gauge if I'm serious. Whatever she finds makes her get on her feet, too.
“I really wish you would trust me with the truth, but it's fine. Like I said, I am here to help you, and I can't do that if you don't want me to, so I'll leave. But here's my card. Call me if you change your mind.”
She walks up to me and hands me her card. I take it, but she doesn't release it, a determined look on her face.
“Are you pregnant, Miss Brown?”
“What?” I blurt out, shocked to my core.
Shit.
My aunt tries to come between us, but it doesn't stop her from speaking.
“I've been doing some research, and one of the reasons I found that a woman can't donate bone marrow is because she is pregnant and can lose the pregnancy if she undergoes a bone marrow donation surgery. So, is that why you can't save your father?”
Goddamn it.
“Well, are you pregnant or not?” She presses on, looking at me meaningfully.
She's not asking me this because she isn't sure. She's asking me because she wants me to corroborate what she already knows.
Well, I'm not going to give her that satisfaction.
“I can't tell you that,” I finally say.
She nods and finally releases her hold on the card. “Then I guess I'm going to be keeping your secret until you're ready to tell it yourself. Have a nice day.”
She walks out of the house, leaving me with my jaw literally on the floor. When the door closes behind her, I snap into action.
I don't know what just happened, but I'm not sticking around to find out what happens next.
I have to get out of town, and I have to do it now.
“I'm leaving Glazer Ville,” I say to my aunt and her face goes white.
She's not going to be happy about this, but there's no way I'm letting her talk me out of it.