The Sun's Shadow: A Novel by Sejal Badani

Author:Sejal Badani [Badani, Sejal]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2025-01-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Celine

I barely slept at night, tossing and turning until the sun came up. My every thought was on Brian, Justin, and the transplant. I want to scream at Felicity, to demand that after everything she and Eric have done, Justin’s donating shouldn’t even be a question. She and Eric destroyed my family; saving my son should be the first step in her bid for forgiveness.

But, a small voice says, if she’s not seeking forgiveness, then I don’t matter. Brian doesn’t matter.

Karma is irrelevant to someone who believes they are impervious to life’s scales of justice. Or, as I know intimately from my father, sometimes the pain caused to another is justified by the gain achieved personally.

I arrive to Brian’s room in the morning, earlier than usual. My mom, preferring the night shifts, has already left for the day with a promise to return later. Eric arrives at various times, trying to spend as much time as possible. The three of us rotating, cogs in a wheel critical for it to run smoothly.

With barely any overlap between us, Mom and I haven’t had a chance to speak about Eric or Justin since the initial meeting. Though we exchange texts about Brian, she either seems to understand that I’m still trying to process what happened, or she also needs time. She and Eric have always been close. He didn’t just lie to Brian and me; he lied to her too.

“Hi, honey.” I kiss Brian’s forehead. “Did you sleep well?” I already know from the nurses that his night was fitful and restless.

“I want to go home.” In a burst of anger, Brian pulls on his IV tube. I gently grasp his fingers, trying to keep them from doing damage. Too weak to fight me, he lets them fall to the side. “Now.”

“Brian, honey, have a few bites to eat.” Shifting the breakfast tray close, I hope the smell of pancakes and whipped cream will entice him. “It will make you feel better.”

“No, it won’t.” He grabs the open applesauce container and throws it across the room, droplets spraying everywhere. “I hate it here.”

Eric walks in just as Brian pushes the food plate off the tray. It clatters to the ground, syrup dripping onto the sheet as strawberry pieces fall in a perfect circle onto the floor.

“I want to go home.” Furious, Brian searches for an outlet for his anger. With nothing left to throw, he pulls at his tubes again, succeeding in pulling out his IV. Drops of blood splatter onto my face. “I want to go home,” he repeats, my heart breaking as his anger shifts to pleading. “Please.”

Eric immediately takes a seat on the other side of him. “Ace, we can’t go home yet,” he says softly.

“Please, Dad,” Brian begs. “I don’t like it here.”

Brian falls into Eric’s chest. He wraps an arm around our son as I stifle my sob, clutching the sheet around Brian like a lifeline. I meet my husband’s eyes over our son’s head, our pain flowing between us, washing away the past to bind us in the present.

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