Chapter 4 - Connor Refuses the Gift
Connor learned about Harper’s hidden position through an accidental conversation.
He was leaving a treatment appointment when he overheard two hospital administrators speaking inside a conference room.
“Chairwoman Whitmore approved the expansion personally.”
“Harper Whitmore?”
“Yes. She has been directing Northstar for almost a year.”
Connor stopped in the hallway.
Later that afternoon, he went to Harper’s apartment.
She opened the door and saw the question in his face immediately.
“How much do you know?”
“That you own the hospital treating me.”
“I do not own it personally. I control the network through the trust.”
“You could have told me.”
“I could have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Harper stepped aside.
Connor entered the apartment and looked around at the simple furniture, shelves of medical-policy books, and photographs of their grandmother.
“You let everyone think you were doing nothing.”
“I let Mom and Dad think that.”
“You let me think it too.”
“You never asked what I did. You only apologized every time they insulted me.”
Connor lowered his eyes.
“That is fair.”
Harper made coffee while he sat at the kitchen table.
He looked exhausted.
“Are you angry that I refused to donate?”
“No.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“I am angry that our parents asked you after the doctors said it was unsafe. I am angry that they keep using my illness as a weapon.”
Harper placed a cup before him.
“You are getting worse.”
“I know.”
“I can move you higher within private research programs, but I will not interfere with the transplant list.”
“I would not accept that.”
“I know.”
Connor studied her face.
“Do you hate me?”
The question surprised her.
“No.”
“You should. They gave me everything.”
“They gave you expectations. That is not the same as love.”
Connor looked toward the window.
“When we were children, I thought being the favorite meant I had won something. Then I realized I was never allowed to fail. You were ignored, but I was managed.”
Harper sat opposite him.
“They hurt us differently.”
Connor nodded.
He reached into his jacket and placed an envelope on the table.
Inside was a signed statement declining any claim to Harper’s organs, medical authority, or trust benefits arising from her incapacity or death.
“I had an attorney prepare it,” he said. “I want there to be no doubt.”
Harper read the document.
“You did not need to do this.”
“Yes, I did.”
For the first time in years, she saw her brother without the shadow of their parents between them.
Before leaving, Connor paused at the door.
“Dad has been asking questions about Grandmother’s trust.”
“What kind of questions?”
“What happens if one of us dies. Who inherits voting rights. Whether medical decisions can affect succession.”
Harper became very still.
“Why did you not tell me sooner?”
“I thought he was planning for my death.”
May you like
Harper looked at the document in her hand.
“Maybe he was planning for mine.”
