Double Bluff

Chapter One

“The trapdoor was sabotaged. When Colin stood on it, it gave way and he fell eight feet... onto the small steel pipe sticking out of the floor—”

“Ms. Kim—”

“It impaled him through the throat,” I cried. “He’s been paralyzed from the neck down ever since, changing the course of his life forever. And mine.”

“Ms. Kim, I—”

“But it turned out students had been sneaking under the stage to smoke, drink, and hook up for years, so a couple months before it happened, the headmaster had the whole place rigged with cameras.

And when they checked those cameras, who did they see sneaking around under the stage, messing with the trapdoor?

“Me!” I burst out, making him jump. “He saw me, except it wasn’t me! It was Sue. She sabotaged the stage. She nearly killed Colin. And she set me up to fall for it, knowing that no one was going to believe it was the fault of my evil fucking twin.”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I understand that—”

“Do you?” I sliced in. “Do you understand that the headmaster grilled me for hours? Demanding to know what possible reason my sister would have for entering the grounds of a school she didn’t even go to, just to play a vicious prank on a guy she didn’t even know?

A guy who just happened to be beating me out for valedictorian?

“He didn’t believe a word out of my mouth,” I scoffed. “And it didn’t help that my own mother sat in his office and said my accusations were ridiculous. Sue was across town working on her lessons with her math tutor. She was never anywhere near Titan Prep.

“I tried to tell them that she absolutely could and would do those horrible things. That any alibi she gave was false and coerced, and that Soo Min Kim is the most evil, manipulative, cold-hearted bitch that ever walked the face of the earth. I told them,” I cried, speaking over another attempt to interrupt me, “that only a few days before Colin’s accident, Sue cornered me coming out of my room.

“She hissed at me that I didn’t deserve my acceptance to Yale. That I only got in because I forced Omma to send me to a different, and better, high school. I got to ‘cheat’ my way to the top without her there to outshine me, and if it wasn’t for that, she’d be going to Yale and not me.

“I dismissed her as the jealous bitch she was, but—but I should’ve known,” I rasped, voice cracking, “that Sue always gets the last word.”

“Ms. Kim, please—”

“The headmaster expelled me,” I whispered, eyes stinging, “Yale rescinded my acceptance. No other college would take me, and then Colin’s family sued ours.

“Omma paid them everything they asked out of my trust and college funds. Then, she threw me out.” My voice was dead. “The shame was too much for her. She wanted nothing to do with me. And just like that... my life was over.”

“Ms. Kim,” he said gently. “I truly am very sorry for what happened to you, but, I confess, I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”

I looked around the small, but cheerful office. Bright, blue walls enveloped us instead of clinical white. Everywhere I looked, there were adorable child-made drawings, and pictures of the babies who grew up to draw them.

“I’m telling you this, Dr. Cormac, because every dream I’ve ever had has been stolen from me.

Every single one, except this one. I’ve wanted kids since I was a kid, and I’m tired of waiting.

Tired of waiting for my life to start. Tired of waiting for permission to be happy.

I want to do this,” I pressed, “but I can’t for thirty thousand dollars. ”

I waved the price sheet he handed me in the air. “IVF cannot possibly cost this much.”

“I’m afraid it does.”

“But—but there must be payment plans,” I cried.

“There are—”

“Great,” I pounced. “I’ll do that—”

“—for those with a credit score of seven hundred or higher. Your score is four hundred and two.”

I bit my lip hard, refusing to deflate like the hopes he just popped a hole in. “Please,” I said when I trusted myself. “There has to be something you can do.”

“Well, we haven’t discussed IUI.” Dr. Cormac was as kind as his gentle green eyes, and the smile that was never far from his lips.

That’s why I chose him as my doctor. I could hear in his voice that he wanted to help me.

“The costs for IUI are greatly reduced. We charge only one thousand two hundred per cycle.”

I was shaking my head before he finished. “I can’t do IUI. One of my tubes is blocked, and the other is badly scarred from the endometriosis. IVF is my only real option.”

“I’m so sorry, forgive me.” He flipped quickly through my file. “I didn’t see that in your file.”

“Because the last doctor I went to would’ve been better off selling snake oil behind a donkey’s ass.”

He barked a startled laugh.

“He was completely disorganized, unreliable, and not good about updating patient files,” I said, flapping my hand at the papers. “That’s why I spent money I don’t have for this consultation with you. You’re the best fertility doctor in three counties. There must be something you can do for me.”

He smiled softly. “You flatter me, Ms. Kim, and believe me when I say that I want to help you, but it appears that IVF is simply something that you cannot afford at this time.

When your financial situation changes, please return.

When you do, I swear to you that no matter how busy my schedule is, I will make time for you.

“I’ll help you make this dream come true.”

“But—”

“I’m afraid that’s all we have time for today.” He rose out of his seat. “Allow me to escort you to the door.”

Abrupt. Direct. Not unkind, but firm. No doubt the tone and dismissal he used on many a person or couple that came in here hoping that a sob story would persuade him not to force them to mortgage their home for their future.

Swallowing my protests, I turned off my recorder, stood, and let him walk me out the door.

My wedges hit the sidewalk by the time my phone went off. I declined the call without even looking at it, trudging to my car. The 1987 Dodge Charger was a sleek, black beauty back in its day.

But now it was a dented, rusted-over piece of crap that groaned every time I turned the key. Loud and clear it demanded to know why I wouldn’t let it fall apart in peace, but it wasn’t allowed to take the easy way out.

That car was the only thing I was allowed to take when Omma threw me out. She barely let me have the clothes on my back, and even those weren’t left unscathed. I rubbed my throat, slowing down as I was thrown back to the night Omma ripped my shirt tearing Halmeoni’s necklace from my neck.

She had no right to it. My grandmother left me that necklace in her will, but when I unwisely made that argument, my mother slapped me so hard across the face, my head nearly popped off.

I wasn’t worthy of Halmeoni’s necklace. I wasn’t worthy to walk the halls where she once lived. And I wasn’t worthy to stand before her then, crying about what I was entitled to after shaming myself and my family in the most hideous way.

All of that my mother screamed at me... as my sister watched from the shadows—laughing.

I ripped out of the memory when my phone went off again. Checking the screen, I bit off a curse and accepted the call—hitting record before I said a word.

“What.”

His oily, skin-crawling laugh oozed through the phone. “Now, now, Sarah. Is that any way to answer your boss? I would’ve thought I’m so sorry, Dan, please tell me what I can do to make it up to you would’ve been much more appropriate considering you’re three hours late for your shift.”

I continued to my car, riffling around in my bag for my keys. “So fire me.”

“I’m not doing that. And you wouldn’t want me to do that.”

I tensed. “What wouldn’t I want you to do, Dan? Release sex tapes we made when we were dating and I thought we were in love—”

“We’re still dating and we’re still in love.”

“No, we’re not! We haven’t been since I walked in on you screwing the line cook!”

“I apologized for that a dozen times.”

“No, you didn’t,” I hissed. “You said I’m sorry you had to see that and I’m sorry you were hurt.”

“Exactly.”

“No, not exactly, dumbass. We’ve been through that a dozen times, and I’ve got the recordings to prove it, so cut it out with your gaslighting garbage. Fake-ass apologies like that put all the responsibility on me for what happened, instead of on you.”

“Fine, then I take all the responsibility. I’m sorry. End of sentence,” he said. “We good?”

If I could’ve reached through the phone and punched him, the dickhead would be missing five teeth. “Okay, yes, fine,” I gritted. “We’re good. Apology accepted. Now we can break up and move on from each other with no hard feelings.”

“If that happens, then I’ve got no reason to keep these little home videos we made to myself.”

I tossed my head. “It amazes me how you have no shame over blackmailing me, even when you know I’m recording every word you say. Danny boy, if you release those videos, I’ll sue you for everything you have. The judge won’t be too sympathetic when she listens to my home records.”

“True,” he breezed, “but how is the two hundred and twelve dollars I’ve got in my bank account going to lift your spirits when the whole world is watching your flat ass bounce on my lap?

The future Little Kim is going to have quite a hard time at school when all the bullies are flashing your tits in their face—”

“Stop!”

“Sure, I’ll stop.” I heard the triumph in his voice clear as day. “As long as you stop being a bitter old hag, and move on from the past. I love you, I made a mistake, it’ll never happen again, so let’s move the fuck on. Deal?”

The word was acid on my tongue. “...deal.”

“Awesome. Then, I’ll see you tonight, baby. My place.”

“Fine.”

“You—”

I hung up, not letting him drip another poisonous word in my ear.

Walking up to my car, I dropped my head on the hood—letting the warmth seep into my skull and banish the oncoming headache.