Chapter 2Save Mom

Half an hour later, a sleek black SUV pulled up to the curb, silent and imposing.

The pop-ups were back: [It's a Rolls-Royce Cullinan! Your uncle has arrived in style, Maya!]

I didn't know the name, but the car was so polished and black it seemed to swallow the light. It made our torn, dirty clothes look even more pathetic.

The door opened and a tall man in a tailored suit stepped out. His brow furrowed as his eyes swept over us, taking in our miserable state. I looked closely at his face—he had my mother's eyes. He seemed to glow, surrounded by an invisible aura of power. It wasn't a hallucination. It was the light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel.

[It's your youngest uncle, Julian! He's finally seeing you alive and well, not the girl in a coma he'll visit for the rest of his life…]

So this was my uncle.

"You're the ones who called?" he asked, his voice crisp.

I shook my mom awake, pushing her forward. "It's her! This is the Vance family's long-lost daughter you've been searching for!"

His gaze was sharp, analytical, as he studied my mother's weathered, frightened face. "You have no proof. What makes you so certain?"

Mom was terrified. "Maya, what's going on?" she whispered, looking from me to him.

I suppressed a wave of nausea and said the only thing I could think of that would cut through his skepticism. "Proof? A DNA test will give you all the proof you need. Science doesn't lie."

He gestured for us to get in the car. The inside was unbelievably luxurious. My mom shrank behind me, barely breathing. The man—my uncle—never stopped studying us. I could tell he didn't want to believe that these two ragged figures were his family.

At the hospital, the blood draw was quick. We waited in a conference room. What if it wasn't her? I couldn't even bear the thought.

A doctor practically ran into the room, handing a file to my uncle. My mom instinctively took my hand, her warm palms enveloping my icy fingers. "Maya, your hands are like stones. Let me warm them up…"

My uncle's eyes flew across the page, finally landing on the bottom line: "The probability of a full sibling relationship is greater than 99.99%."

The world seemed to stop.

The doctor, sensing our confusion, explained, "That means we can say with one hundred percent certainty that they are brother and sister."

A roar filled my ears. My voice shook. "Mom, did you hear that? You have a brother! You have a family! You're going to be okay!"

Mom was stiff in my arms, her face a blank mask of disbelief. Hot tears fell onto my hand. "A brother?" she whispered.

My uncle covered his face, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He hadn't been cold; he'd been terrified. Terrified of having his hopes dashed again after forty years of searching. He dropped his hands, his face wet with tears.

"Clara," he choked out, stepping forward. "It's me. It's your brother, Julian. I finally found you."

He hugged his long-lost sister, laughing and crying at the same time.

My mother could be loved like this. She was *supposed* to be loved like this.

I had gambled everything, and I had won. We had money now. She could be saved. We didn't have to die.

Julian pulled out his phone. "I found her! It's really her! Mom, Dad, get to the hospital. Now!"

Within the hour, the room was filled with well-dressed men and elegant women, all surrounding us.