My Last Name Is My Own

Chapter 2

2,932 words

My mind drifted back fourteen years.

I was thirteen then, Adrian twenty-one.

Our parents died in a car accident, leaving behind our sprawling estate and a horde of relatives hungry for the family fortune.

Back then, Adrian was like a wolf protecting its cub.

He kept me safe behind him, shouldering everything by himself.

At the funeral, a drunk relative pointed at me and cursed.

“You little menace! If it wasn’t for you, your parents wouldn’t be dead!”

Adrian punched him, sending blood spurting across his face.

“Anyone who dares lay a finger on my sister, I’ll make them wish they were never born.”

That night, he held me as I sobbed, repeating over and over.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here.”

“I’ll protect you my whole life, Aurora.”

I believed him.

I thought we would always be like that, dependent on each other.

But everything changed when my half-sister, Willow, came into our lives.

She wasn’t well, so Adrian gave her *my* room, claiming it had the best sunlight.

She didn’t like the food our housekeeper made, so Adrian took her out to eat every single day.

She was scared to sleep alone, so Adrian would stay in her room until she drifted off.

A month before I was supposed to start college, Willow was diagnosed with a rare liver disease, her life hanging by a thread.

Adrian went frantic.

He took her to the best hospitals across the country, sought out every specialist.

Finally, the doctors gave them two options.

Wait for a donor liver, or a living donor transplant.

Waiting for a donor could take one or two years, time she didn’t have.

A living donor transplant required a blood-type-matched direct relative.

And in the entire Sutton family, only she and I had compatible blood types.

Adrian came to talk to me when I was doing my final revisions for my college entrance exams.

“Aurora,” his voice was gentler than it had been in years. “You know about Willow, right?”

I didn’t respond.

“The doctors say your liver has the highest chance of a match.”

I turned a page in my textbook.

“Aurora, she’s going to die.” His voice trembled slightly.

“Please, I’m begging you, save her.”

I finally looked up at him.

“Adrian, do you remember what you were doing the last time *I* was sick?”

He froze.

“I had a fever of one hundred and four degrees Fahrenheit, lay alone in my room for two days, and no one checked on me.”

“And you? You were out shopping with Willow. Because she said she was in a bad mood.”

He opened his mouth. “Aurora, I was wrong that time…”

“And,” I cut him off. “Do you remember that time I was pushed down the stairs?”

“I told you Willow did it, and what did you say? You said I wasn’t watching where I was going, trying to pin the blame on poor Willow.”

His face went pale. “Aurora…”

“Adrian, you want me to save her?”

I stood up, facing him.

“Fine.”

“But after this, we’re done. Our slate is clean. I’m no longer a Sutton, and you’re no longer my brother!”

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