A Test of Kinship

My sister is diagnosed with leukemia after a medical checkup at the hospital where I work. My bone marrow is a match for her.

Out of curiosity, I tell my family I'm the one who's sick. They vehemently oppose to her donating her bone marrow to me.

"A bone marrow donation is risky! We can't let your sister put herself in danger."

"Don't drag your sister into this just because you're sick. Everyone's life and death is fated—you have to accept your destiny."

My sister also refuses to help me, brushing me off with the excuse that she's preparing to conceive.

My relationship with my family is strained, so their behavior thoroughly destroys it. When I realize this, I leave the diagnosis report behind and walk out on them.

When I learned that I was a match for the bone marrow donation, I had just found out that I was pregnant.

My mentor, Frank Hyde, pulled me aside with a serious expression.

He said that if I wanted to donate bone marrow to my elder sister, Sarah Robinson, I would most likely have to terminate the pregnancy first.

He advised me to think it through and talk it over with my husband, William Campbell.

I really hesitated.

I had taken a lot of medicine and spent months preparing to get pregnant.

When William found out about my pregnancy, he was so excited he could hardly contain it. He wanted to shout to the world that he was going to be a dad.

How could I possibly have the heart to give up the baby?

Sarah just turned 29. Unlike me, she was my parents' precious daughter. If something happened to her, my parents would never recover.

So, after thinking it over all afternoon, I decided to go home after work.

When I got back, they were all gathered around the dinner table, happily eating.

Apart from Sarah's family, there was also my younger brother, Samuel Robinson, and his girlfriend, Kayla Clark.

They were toasting each other, clearly celebrating something.

But my arrival broke the warm atmosphere.

The room went quiet. Everyone stopped smiling and awkwardly set down their glasses.

Only my mother, Lindsey Gray, chuckled and tried to pull me into the seat.

"I didn't call you because I thought you were busy. But look at you, lucky to get a meal. Come, sit down and eat with us."

However, what she didn't know was that no matter how kindly she spoke, it couldn't hide the distance in her actions.

Suddenly, I felt like doing mischief.

I did something unexpected and gently held the hand she was using to help me to my seat.

"Mom, I'm sick."

Mom's hand froze, and she stiffened as I held it.

"Well, if you're sick, just eat more. A full stomach can cure any illness," she said dismissively, not even asking what was wrong with me. Instead, she pulled her hand away to move a chair.

Samuel frowned.

"Did you come here just to ruin the mood, Jessica? Every time there's something happy, you always spoil it. Sarah got the chance to go on an overseas tour today. Don't tell me you didn't do this on purpose."

I ignored him and sat down in the chair Mom had moved.

"I have leukemia."

Samuel went silent.

Mom's hand trembled as she passed me the cutlery, and the fork fell to the floor.

The room was dead silent.

Mom's eyes turned red, and she stood next to me, wiping away tears.

Sitting at the head of the table, my father, Eric Robinson, who had been silent, finally spoke. "You need to tell your in-laws about this. They can probably afford the treatment."

He shot me a disapproving look as he continued, "Always stay calm. Don't be so reckless. It won't help if you recover only to give your mom a heart attack."

Mom wiped her face and started serving me food.

"Your dad's right. No matter how big the problem is, you should eat first."

Sarah also served me some food, and her smile was as bright as ever.

"Yeah, it's because you overthink that you get sick. Just eat more, smile more, and everything will be fine."

I didn't touch my cutlery. My eyes scanned each of them before saying, "I didn't come here to ask for money. I just want to know if Sarah can donate her bone marrow to me?"

The room fell silent again.

After a long moment, Dad slammed his fork on the table. "That's nonsense!"

He frowned deeply. "Don't you know that donating bone marrow is risky?"

I gave a bitter smile. "Isn't it worth a small risk to save my life?"

Dad stubbornly turned his face away. "We won't let Sarah take that risk, even if the chances are small."

I wasn't surprised by Dad's answer.

As the second child who was fostered away from home since childhood, Dad was never welcoming of my birth, nor was he welcoming of my return.