The Spare Whitaker Daughter
Language: en
I saw the numbers hovering over their heads right before I was scheduled to go under the knife to save my mother’s life. It started as a flicker, then solidified into a cruel, neon reality. Above my older sister Serena’s head, the compatibility rating glowed at a staggering 80%. Above Weston, my twin brother—born only minutes after me—it pulsed at 85%. Stunned, I blinked rapidly, my heart hammering against my ribs. I made a frantic excuse and retreated to the hospital bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. When I looked into the mirror, the number above my own reflection was a dismal…