“But Kat’s not from around here,” said Reese. “I highly doubt that missing link is blood related.”
“Eliminate the impossible before considering the improbable,” countered Car, taking her place at the table. She remained in high spirits…for the first two hours.
We all had our heads on the table, leafing through more and more pages with bleary eyes.
“Can we take a break?” Reese pleaded. “I’m starving.”
“Just a little longer,” said Car. “We’re on the verge of a breakthrough. I can feel it.”
“I can feel the bottomless pit in my stomach,” he murmured, tossing another file aside. “Is your life even half as mind numbing as these articles are? Because if so, I’m recommending you for sainthood.”
“Thanks,” I chortled. It’s not like I could blame him. He’d spent the last forty five minutes reading about every publicized fundraiser I’d been dragged to over the past year.
“Seriously, look at this. Auctions, pledges, raffles, charity balls, galas, holiday luncheons, formals, weekly parties…” He tossed the news clippings aside, rubbing his exhausted eyes. “Do you have a life outside school and the country club?”
“What do you think?” I scoffed, tossing another file at him.
He flipped it open and immediately banged his head on the tabletop. “There’s more?”
“The week I stayed home after the accident was the first time since moving here I got to actually sleep in.”
“Jesus.”
“Sometimes privilege doesn’t buy you freedom. It only puts more restrictions on what you’re allowed to do with your life.”
“Stay positive,” ordered Carly, grabbing a fresh batch of folders. Her stomach grumbled, and she winced. “Although, you’ve got a point. I really could go for a quick bite. Kat, you have anything I can nibble on?”
“All I have is a box of Tic Tacs.”
“I’ll take it.” She seized hold of my purse and rummaged through the mess, trying to unearth the source of the infamous rattling.
“You okay?” asked Reese.
I looked up to see Carly’s eyes wide, her fingers wrapped around a white paper cuff. It was the patient ID band I’d received in the hospital after the accident. The cuff had been way too big for my wrist, so I’d just tossed it into my bag the moment they gave back my things upon release.
Carly whipped the band aside and it smacked Reese in the chest. He studied it, but still looked just as baffled as me. The girl was flinging folders left and right, cursing as she continued in her search. For what exactly, we had no idea.
“Yahtzee!” Peeling through the pages, her eyes finally settled on a document and her face immediately paled.
Reese looked over her shoulder. “You find something there, Sherlock?”
“Try a whole lot of somethings.” She slid each of the papers over to Reese and me. They were my family’s medical records. “Look at the blood types.”
“What am I missing here?” My parents were both O-positive, as was I.
“Did you ever need another blood transfusion after you were little?”
“I wasn’t aware I needed it the first time,” I said, taking the next paper she handed to me. Apparently, I’d been born premature and in consequence had been anemic. This was all news to me. “I’m still not sure where you’re going with this, Car.”
“When you were in the E.R., the doctor ordered new blood work for you, probably to see if there were any drugs or alcohol in your system. Notice anything odd?”
Reese took another look at the wristband, and the same expression washed over his face as it had with Carly.
I leaned over, snatching it from his hands. “That… That can’t be right.”
Plain as day, the cuff read, TYPE: B-negative.
“They can’t be my parents.”
***
“Hey, you guys could be, like, the long lost heiresses to a billion dollar empire, and maybe evil corporate CEOs have sent out henchmen to hunt you all down to keep the money for themselves,” declared Carly.
“Or,” Reese interjected snippily, “maybe the hospital just made a clinical error.”
I shook my head. The more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed. Sure, every kid at some point wonders if they’re adopted, but there were more than a few oddities I couldn’t overlook. My parents had made their fair share of remarks over the years that they would’ve thought I was adopted if they didn’t know any better. While both my mom and dad’s sides of the family had either brown or hazel green eyes, mine were just plain off-putting. My pediatrician called it “central heterochromia.” It was a mutation that caused an iridescent ring of yellow to hug the pupils, while the rest of my eyes were bright blue. Not to mention, while my parents had blonde hair, neither of theirs was nearly as white as my own. In fact, both of theirs were on the darker end of the color spectrum. Even odder, both my folks suffered from an array of allergies. My mom couldn’t even take Advil, as it would cause her to go into anaphylactic shock. Yet, I never had a reaction to anything in my entire life.