Jodie Picoult - My Sister's Keeper

"Are you familiar with this form, Doctor?"

"Yes. It's a standard consent form for a surgical procedure."

"Can you tell us who the patient receiving it was?"

"Anna Fitzgerald."

"And who signed the consent form?"

"Sara Fitzgerald."

I rock back on my heels. "Dr. Chance, anesthesia carries a risk of life impairment or death. Those are pretty strong long-term effects."

"That's exactly why we have a consent form. It's to protect us from people like you," he says. "But realistically, the risk is extremely small. And the procedure of donating marrow is fairly simple."

"Why was Anna being anesthetized for such a simple procedure?"

"It's less traumatic for a child, and they're less likely to squirm around."

"And after the procedure, did Anna experience any pain?"

"Maybe a little," Dr. Chance says.

"You don't remember?"

"It's been a long time. I'm sure even Anna's forgotten about it by now."

"You think?" I turn to Anna. "Should we ask her?"

Judge DeSalvo crosses his arms.

"Speaking of risk," I continue smoothly. "Can you tell us about the research that's been done on the long-term effects of the growth factor shots she's taken twice now, prior to harvest for transplant?"

"Theoretically, there shouldn't be any long-term sequelae."

"Theoretically," I repeat. "Why theoretically?"

"Because the research has been done on lab animals," Dr. Chance admits. "Effects on humans are still being tracked."

"How comforting."

He shrugs. "Physicians don't tend to prescribe drugs that have the potential to wreak havoc."

"Have you ever heard of thalidomide, Doctor?" I ask.

"Of course. In fact, recently, it's been resurrected for cancer research."

"And it was a milestone drug once before," I point out. "With catastrophic effects. Speaking of which . . . this kidney donation—are there risks associated with the procedure?"

"No more than for most surgeries," Dr. Chance says.

"Could Anna die from complications of this surgery?"

"It's highly unlikely, Mr. Alexander."

"Well, then, let's assume Anna comes through the procedure with flying colors. How will having a single kidney affect her for the rest of her life?"

"It won't, really," the doctor says. "That's the beauty of it."

I hand him a flyer that has come from the nephrology department of his own hospital. "Can you read the highlighted section?"

He slips on his glasses again. "Increased chance of hypertension. Possible complications during pregnancy." Dr. Chance glances up. "Donors are advised to refrain from contact sports to eliminate the risk of harming their remaining kidney."

I clasp my hands behind my back. "Did you know that Anna plays hockey in her free time?"

He turns toward her. "No. I didn't."

"She's a goalie. Has been for years now." I let this sink in. "But since this donation is hypothetical, let's concentrate on the ones that have already happened. The growth factor shots, the DLI, the stem cells, the lymphocyte donations, the bone marrow—all of these myriad treatments Anna endured—in your expert opinion, Doctor, are you saying that Anna has not undergone any significant medical harm from these procedures?"

"Significant?" He hesitates. "No, she has not."

"Has she received any significant benefit from them?" Dr. Chance looks at me for a long moment. "Sure," he says. "She's saving her sister."

Anna and I are eating lunch upstairs at the courthouse when Julia walks in. "Is this a private party?"

Anna waves her inside, and Julia sits down without so much as a glance toward me. "How are you doing?" she asks.

"Okay," Anna replies. "I just want it to be over."

Julia opens up a packet of salad dressing and pours it over the lunch she's brought. "It will be, before you know it."

She looks at me when she says this, briefly.

That's all it takes for me to remember the smell of her skin, and the spot below her breast where she has a beauty mark in the shape of a crescent moon.

Suddenly Anna gets up. "I'm going to take Judge for a walk." she announces.

"Like hell you are. There are reporters out there, still."

"I'll walk him in the hallway, then."

"You can't. He has to be walked by me; it's part of his training."

"Then I'm going to pee," Anna says. "That's something I'm still allowed to do by myself, right?"

She walks out of the conference room, leaving Julia and me and everything that shouldn't have happened but did.

"She left us alone on purpose," I realize.

Julia nods. "She's a smart kid. She can read people very well." Then she sets down her plastic fork. "Your car is full of dog hair."

"I know. I keep asking Judge to pull it back in a ponytail but he never listens."

"Why didn't you just get me up?"

I grin. "Because we were anchored in a no-wake zone."

Julia, however, doesn't even crack a smile. "Was last night a joke to you, Campbell?"

That old adage pops into my head: If you want to see God laugh, make apian. And because I am a coward, I grab the dog by his collar. "I need to walk him before we're called back into court."

Julia's voice follows me to the door. "You didn't answer me."

"You don't want me to," I say. I don't turn around. That way I don't have to see her face.

When Judge DeSalvo adjourns us for the day at three because of a weekly chiropractic appointment, I walk Anna out to the lobby to find her father—but Brian's gone. Sara looks around, surprised. "Maybe he got a fire call," she says. "Anna, I'll—"

But I put my hand on Anna's shoulder. "I'll take you to the fire station."

In the car, she is quiet. I pull into the station parking lot and leave the engine running. "Listen," I tell her, "you may not have realized it, but we had a great first day."

"Whatever."

She gets out of my car without another word and Judge hops up into the vacated front seat. Anna walks toward the station, but then veers left. I start to pull back out, and then against my better judgment turn off the engine. Leaving Judge in the car, I follow her around the back of the building.

She stands like a statue, her face turned up to the sky. What am I supposed to do, say? I have never been a parent; I can barely take care of myself.

As it turns out, Anna starts speaking first. "Did you ever do something you knew was wrong, even though it felt right?"

I think of Julia. "Yeah."

"Sometimes I hate myself," Anna murmurs.

"Sometimes," I tell her, "I hate myself, too."

This surprises her. She looks at me, and then at the sky again. "They're up there. The stars. Even when you can't see them."

I put my hands into my pockets. "I used to wish on a star every night."

"For what?"

"Rare baseball cards for my collection. A golden retriever. Young, hot female teachers."

"My dad told me that a bunch of astronomers found a new place where stars are being born. Only it's taken us 2,500 years to see them." She turns to me. "Do you get along with your parents?"

I think about lying to her, but then I shake my head. "I used to think I'd be just like them when I grew up, but I'm not. And the thing is, somewhere along the way, I stopped wanting to be like them, anyway."

The sun washes over her milky skin, lights the line of her throat. "I get it," Anna says. "You were invisible, too."

BRIAN FITZGERALD IS MY LOCK. Once the judge realizes that at least one of Anna's parents agrees with her decision to stop being a donor for her sister, granting her emancipation won't be quite as great a leap. If Brian does what I need him to—namely, tell Judge DeSalvo that he knows Anna has rights, too, and that he's prepared to support her—then whatever Julia says in her report will be a moot point. And better still, Anna's testimony would only be a formality.