The Other Woman's Son
Twenty-two years later CLAY DILLON COVERED his sister Darcy's much smaller hand with his, hoping the dread flowing through his veins like icy river water hadn't chilled his skin.
She glanced at him with wide blue eyes, and he tried to convey with his expression that they'd get through this crisis no matter what the news.
Their mother Margo sat rigidly on the opposite side of Darcy, her pink lipstick standing out starkly on a face that had gone pale despite her expertly applied makeup.
If the patient consultation room hadn't been rather richly redecorated and the slim, somber man behind the gleaming mahogany desk hadn't lost three-quarters of his hair, time would seem as if it had rewound.
Dr. Phillip McIntyre tapped his chin, a habitual gesture Clay recognized from the last time the family had dealt with him. It meant the doctor was having difficulty putting his thoughts into exactly the right words.
"I'm sorry to have to inform you of this, but the biopsy confirmed our suspicions." His somber voice contrasted vividly with the Memphis sun streaming through the blinds. "The kidney is indeed failing."
Clay's st ... read full excerpt from The Other Woman's Son ebook
