Page 47 of It’s Me, but Different

This morning, Theo was already complaining about severe stomach pain. Mom had a very important meeting, so she gave him a pill and told him it would pass soon.

But now he's much worse.

Much, much worse.

“Jessica, should we call an ambulance?” I ask through sobs.

“I don't know,” she admits. “Your mother told me not to bother her unless it was very serious. Can you call again? Do you think it's serious?”

I shift my gaze toward my brother. He's very pale, trembling. He's not crying anymore, just moaning very softly, as if he doesn't have the strength to scream.

“Yes, I think it's very serious,” I sigh.

I search my phone for the number I have saved under a fake name. The number she told me to only use for an emergency and that my mother shouldn't see.

I dial it with fear before changing my mind.

“Sloane? This is Ana Sofia. I…”

“Ana? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she interrupts.

“Theo is very bad. His stomach hurts terribly. He's very pale and won't stop moaning. Mom is in a very important meeting and won't answer my calls.”

“Are you alone?” she asks, scared.

“No, Mom left us with a neighbor's daughter, but she's sixteen and doesn't know what to do.”

“Don't worry, we'll fix this. Is Theo vomiting?”

“Yes. And a while ago, he threw up something red.”

“Fuck. Ana, listen to me carefully. Where are you exactly? At home?”

“Yes, at home,” I sob.

“I'm on my way. Stay with Theo. Try to keep him distracted, talk to him, even if he doesn't answer, I'll be there in fifteen minutes,” she assures me.

“What if Mom gets angry because I called you?” I ask fearfully.

“I don't care. Your brother is sick, and you need me. That's all that matters.”

Sloane

“Harper, are you still on the Board of Directors of Watson Memorial Hospital?” I ask without even saying good morning.

“Yes, why?”

“They have a hospital in Denver, right?” I insist.

“It's much smaller than the one in New York, but yes, they have a very well-equipped one,” my older sister responds.

“Please, I need you to call your friend. What's her name? Dr. Katya Thomas? Her father owns the hospital, right? Tell her I need them to immediately treat an eight-year-old boy with severe abdominal pain and vomiting. It's Theo, Esme's son. His mother isn't answering, and Ana Sofia is scared to death. But do it now, Harper. I'm on my way to their house, I've already called an ambulance, and we'll take him directly to the hospital. It's important they have everything ready so we don't lose time.”

I drive to Esme's apartment, violating every known traffic rule, practically praying the ambulance doesn't take long to arrive.

“Sloane!” Ana Sofia screams while throwing herself into my arms. “Theo is super bad!”

I hug her tightly while listening to her brother complaining in the living room. These aren't normal complaints from a stomachache. They're deep, guttural moans from someone who's truly suffering.