Page 57 of Tear Me Apart

My dearest Liesel,

I was so happy to get your letter. We didn’t really have a proper goodbye. Man, do I miss you. It’s dreadfully dull here. Ratchet et al. are especially surly without your sunny disposition. They miss you, too, I think. I hope they didn’t let you out too soon. I’ve been so worried about you. Are you well? Still no cuts?

We had crafts today—guess what day it is? Yes, it’s Tuesday, give that girl a prize!—and I swear if I see one more stupid painted doormat I am going to jump off the roof. I told them that, then fainted spectacularly, in a dead heap, right at their feet, which is why I’m writing you instead of sitting in group. They locked me away again, five hours in the box, and only let me out if I promised to stop being so dramatic.

Isn’t that why we’re stuck in here in the first place? Because we’re overly dramatic? Except for you. I mean, you had cause.

I’m supposed to be sans roommate for a while. We’ll see how long that lasts.

What are you doing out there in the big wide world? Is the sky bluer when you’re free? Does the sun shine brighter? God knows they’ve pumped you full of every imaginable drug, so maybe you’re just asleep. Which I’m going to do. Maybe I’ll dream of my mom again. That was cool. Write me!

Love and stitches,

V

31

CURRENT DAY

Mindy uses her crutches carefully as they leave the hospital. She gets in her mother’s car; her dad follows in his. She puts on her headphones, and they ride in silence up the hill, lost in their own thoughts, until she finally breaks, pulls the headphones down around her neck.

“You seriously adopted me?”

“I did.”

“And you have no idea who from? I find that hard to believe.”

Her mom glances over, then shakes her head. “Oh, sweetheart. I know this is scary and a huge shock. It’s terrible that we had to share it this way, out of desperation. But in the long run, we’re going to be blessed, I can feel it. Dr. Oliver and Dr. Berger know exactly what they’re doing. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“I don’t feel fine, and I’m talking about your lying to me my whole life.”

“I understand you’re angry at me. I don’t blame you.” Her mom pats her arm. Her touch is foreign and unwanted.

“Stop.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll tell you this. Dr. Oliver is excited about the possibility of being able to find you a match in the database through something he called ancestral genetics. Your birth mother was Hispanic. Knowing that will help them narrow the choices. It was important that we be honest with him.”

“But you don’t know where she is?”

“Unfortunately, no, we don’t. Not yet. But Aunt Juliet is looking for her right now. We’re going to find a match for you, sweetheart. I promise.”

“You can’t know that for sure.”

“I believe it, Mindy. I believe the universe is going to give us what we need right now.”

“Since when are you all mystic?”

“Since when are you such a smart-ass?”

Mindy jerks her arm away. “You have no idea what this is like. I’ve worked my entire life to make the US team, and now that I’m there, this happens. I get cancer. I find out I’m adopted. I might die before they find a match. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. Why didn’t you tell them before? Why did you wait so long?”

“Because I was being a coward, Melinda. I was afraid I might lose you. Not only your life, but your heart, and your love. And I know you don’t believe me, but I do know what it’s like, sweetheart. I’ve had unfair things happen to me, too.”

Her mother sounds lost, and alone.The letter. Ask her about the letter.

But they are home, and the moment passes. Lauren pulls into the garage and turns off the engine. “Look at me.”

Mindy glances over, then away. She feels tears threatening. She hates to cry, hates it. It’s the ultimate weakness, and Mindy doesn’t show weakness.