My Sister's Keeper Read online

  I put my foot down on top of a textbook. "Would you do it?"

  "Tutor you? No way."

  "Stop. At the car accident."

  Her hands quieted. "Yeah. Because even if the law says that no one is responsible for anyone else, helping someone who needs it is the right thing to do."

  I sat down beside her, close enough that the skin of her arm hummed right next to mine. "You really believe that?"

  She looked down at her lap. "Yeah."

  "Then how," I asked, "can you walk away from me?"

  *

  Afterward, I wipe my face with paper towels from the dispenser and fix my tie. Judge pads in tight circles beside me, the way he always does. "You did good," I tell him, patting the thick ruff of his neck.

  When I get back into my office, Julia is gone. Kerri sits at the computer in a rare moment of productivity, typing. "She said that if you needed her, you could damn well come find her. Her words, not mine. And she asked for all the medical records." Kerri glances over her shoulder at me. "You look like shit."

  "Thanks." An orange Post-it on her desk catches my attention. "Is this where she wants the records sent?"

  "Yeah."

  I slip the address into my pocket. "I'll take care of it," I say.

  *

  A week later, in front of the same grave, I unlaced Julia Romano's combat boots. I peeled away her camouflage jacket. Her feet were narrow and as pink as the inside of a tulip. Her collarbone was a mystery. "I knew you were beautiful under there," I said, and this was the first spot on her that I kissed.

  *

  The Fitzgeralds live in Upper Darby, in a house that could belong to any typical American family. Two-car garage; aluminum siding; Totfinder stickers in the windows for the fire department. By the time I get there, the sun is setting behind the roofline.

  The whole drive over, I've tried to convince myself that what Julia said has absolutely no bearing on why I've decided to visit my client. That I was always planning to take this little detour before I headed home for the night.

  But the truth is, in all the years I've been practicing, this is the first time I've paid a house call.

  Anna opens the door when I ring the bell. "What are you doing here?"

  "Checking up on you."

  "Does that cost extra?"

  "No," I say dryly. "It's part of a special promotion I'm doing this month."

  "Oh." She crosses her arms. "Have you talked to my mother?"

  "I'm trying my best not to. I assume she's not home?"

  Anna shakes her head. "She's at the hospital. Kate got admitted again. I thought you might have gone over there."

  "Kate's not my client."

  This actually seems to disappoint her. She tucks her hair behind her ears. "Did you, like, want to come in?"

  I follow her into the living room and sit down on the couch, a palette of cheery blue stripes. Judge sniffs the edges of the furniture. "I heard you met the guardian ad litem."

  "Julia. She took me to the zoo. She seems all right." Her eyes dart to mine. "Did she say something about me?"

  "She's worried that your mother might be talking to you about this case."

  "Other than Kate," Anna says, "what else is there to talk about?"

  We stare at each other for a moment. Beyond a client-attorney relationship, I am at a loss.

  I could ask to see her room, except that there's no way in hell any male defense attorney would ever go upstairs alone with a thirteen-year-old girl. I could take her out to dinner, but I doubt she'd appreciate Cafe Nuovo, one of my favorite haunts, and I don't think I could stomach a Whopper. I could ask her about school, but it isn't in session.

  "Do you have kids?" Anna asks.

  I laugh. "What do you think?"

  "It's probably a good thing," she admits. "No offense, but you don't exactly look like a parent."

  That fascinates me. "What do parents look like?"

  She seems to think about this. "You know how the tightrope guy at the circus wants everyone to believe his act is an art, but deep down you can see that he's really just hoping he makes it all the way across? Like that." She glances at me. "You can relax, you know. I'm not going to tie you up and make you listen to gangsta rap."

  "Oh, well," I joke. "In that case." I loosen my tie and sit back on the pillows.

  It makes a smile dart briefly across her face. "You don't have to pretend to be my friend or anything."

  "I don't want to pretend." I run my hand through my hair. "The thing is, this is new to me."

  "What is?"

  I gesture around the living room. "Visiting a client. Shooting the breeze. Not leaving a case at the office at the end of the day."

  "Well, this is new to me, too," Anna confesses.

  "What is?"

  She twists a strand of hair around her pinky. "Hoping," she says.

  *

  The part of town where Julia's apartment is located is an upscale area with a reputation for divorced bachelors, a point that irritates me the whole time I am trying to find a parking spot. Then the doorman takes one look at Judge and bars my path. "No dogs allowed," he says. "Sorry."

  "This is a service dog." When that doesn't seem to ring a bell, I spell it out for him. "You know. Like Seeing Eye."

  "You don't look blind."

  "I'm a recovering alcoholic," I tell him. "The dog gets between me and a beer."

  Julia's apartment is on the seventh floor. I knock on her door and then see an eye checking me out through the peephole. She opens it a crack, but leaves the chain in place. She has a kerchief wrapped around her head, and she looks like she's been crying.

  "Hi," I say. "Can we start over?"

  She wipes her nose. "Who the hell are you?"

  "Okay. Maybe I deserve that." I glance at the chain. "Let me in, will you?"

  She gives me a look, like I'm crazy or something. "Are you on crack?"

  There is a scuffle, and another voice, and then the door opens wide and stupidly I think: There are two of her. "Campbell," the real Julia says, "what are you doing here?"

  I hold up the medical records, still getting over the shock. How the hell is it that she never managed to mention, that entire year at Wheeler, having a twin?

  "Izzy, this is Campbell Alexander. Campbell, this is my sister."

  "Campbell . . ." I watch Izzy turn my name over on her tongue. At second glance, she really looks nothing like Julia at all. Her nose is a bit longer, her complexion not nearly the same shade of gold. Not to mention the fact that watching her mouth move doesn't make me hard. "Not the Campbell?"she says, turning to Julia. "From . . ."

  "Yeah," she sighs.

  Izzy's gaze narrows. "I knew I shouldn't let him in."

  "It's fine," Julia insists, and she takes the files from me. "Thanks for bringing these."

  Izzy waggles her fingers. "You can leave now."

  "Stop." Julia swats her sister's arm. "Campbell is the attorney I'm working with this week."

  "But wasn't he the guy who--"

  "Yes, thanks, I have a fully functioning memory."

  "So!" I interrupt. "I stopped off at Anna's house."

  Julia turns to me. "And?"

  "Earth to Julia," Izzy says. "This is self-destructive behavior."

  "Not when it involves a paycheck, Izzy. We have a case together, that's it. Okay? And I really don't feel like being lectured by you about self-destructive behavior. Who called Janet for a mercy fuck the night after she dumped you?"

  "Hey." I turn to Judge. "How about those Red Sox?"

  Izzy stamps down the hall. "It's your suicide," she yells, and then I hear a door slam.

  "I think she really likes me," I say, but Julia doesn't crack a smile.

  "Thanks for the medical records. Bye."

  "Julia--"

  "Hey, I'm just saving you the trouble. It must've been hard training a dog to drag you out of a room when you need rescuing from some emotionally volatile situation, like an old girlfriend who's telling the