to reduce some of the costs.
“Ethan visited once,” Vivian continued. “You spoke to him.”
“I don’t remember.”
“He did.”
“How do you know?”
“Because later that evening, he asked one of his assistants to find your name.”
My mouth went dry.
“Why?”
“He never told me.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Very little does at the moment.”
Vivian opened the door.
“Your selection was not as random as your father allowed you to believe.”
She left me standing beside the cold fireplace.
I did not sleep.
By dawn, I had replayed every memory of the health center.
Doctors passing through.
Donors touring the building.
Men in dark suits shaking hands.
I could not remember Ethan.
Perhaps we had spoken for thirty seconds.
Perhaps I had handed him a visitor badge.
Why would he remember me three years later?
At breakfast, Jason was waiting in the dining room.
He sat at
