Page 210 of Burn Bright
He scans me. More confusion creases his forehead. “So then what are you doing here, Harriet? Do you need money?”
Bile rises at the insinuation I’m going to ask for cash. I’m not. But is asking for a shadowing position any better? It’s the first time I’ve seen him inelevenfucking years. I should be here to try and form a father-daughter relationship with him before trying to get something from him.
God…I’m a user.
A taker.
I wouldn’t mind transforming into dust particles this very instant.
“I, um…I…” I blink a couple times and take a breath. “I’m going to Manhattan Valley University. I’m a sophomore. Pre-med.”
His brows vault in surprise. “So you’re still doing well in school then?”
“Yeah.” I restrain myself from listing out every course I’m taking, all the clubs, the volunteering and research. I don’t want to bombard him with my life—even if I ache to have him know all the details. Every single one. “The plan is to get into medicalschool, then into a general surgery residency, then a trauma fellowship.”Like you.
He gives me a warm smile. “That’s tough.”
“Yeah, I know, but it’s the life goal.” It’s going well. I think I just need to take my shot. “I have all that I need on my resume. Perfect grades and extracurriculars. But I haven’t had luck getting a shadowing position with any doctors.”
I almost wait for him to say,so that’s what you want.
But he thankfully doesn’t. He nods again. “Shadowing positions are few and far between, and I wish I could help you out. But Denise and I made an agreement with each other around eight or nine years ago that I needed to cut all ties to your mother. If I were to let you shadow me or one of the residents in my department, it would be breaking that agreement. Denise and the kids, they mean the world to me, and I just can’t let any of that negativity back into my life. Intotheirlives.”
I’ve stopped breathing. “I-I don’t understand,” I say. “I’m not my mom.”
“You are tied to her?—”
“I’mnot,” I argue, heat baking my lungs. “I haven’t spoken to her in years.”
He holds up his hands, his eyes going wide. “We were having a civil conversation, Harriet.”
Ibarelyraised my voice. But is that all he sees when he looks at me? Hope Danes, who overreacts. Hope Danes, who can’t keep her cool.
I’ll never be anything other than his first wife’s daughter.
I’ll never be just Harriet Fisher.
I’ve never hated him. Not a moment in my life. Not even when the happy birthday phone calls stopped when I turned eleven…holy shit. He made that agreement with his wife eight or nineyears ago. That would’ve been around my eleventhbirthday. He never forgot my birthday. He cut ties with me. And I just never knew.
Hurt blasts through my chest as if I’m standing in the center of a nuclear explosion. I don’t plan to say a goodbye. I figure it’s a common thing in this hospital anyway. I just stand from my chair and face the exit.
“Harriet, sit down. Let’s just have a normal conversation.”
Normal?
My eyes flame as I spin on him. There are so many things I could say—because I have a feeling there might not be another time we ever talk again.
But all that comes out of my mouth is pure fire. “Fuck you for thinking I’m Hope. I’m nother.I’m not evenyou.I am Harriet fucking Fisher. I’m the girl who was smart enough to skip fifth grade. The girl who’s brilliant enough to get a full ride to an Ivy. The girl who’s proud enough to say I don’t need you. I never needed you to succeed one single day of my life, and I won’t need you to become a doctor. I will do that with the support of people who actually care about me, and thank you for reminding me it’s not you. So fuck you.” I wipe an angry tear away. “And you might hate Hope. You might think she’s the worst person in the world. But look in the fucking mirror. Because you’ve never been any better.”
Rage clouds my vision as I storm out of the lounge. Out of the hospital. My breathing is labored as I land on the sidewalk. Ambulance sirens blare as they veer into the emergency bay. I’m shellshocked at my outburst—because thatneverhappens. I keep my words in. I keep my feelings tight. I know I have too much to lose by cursing people out.
But I don’t regret it. The sentiment surges more powerfully.I do not regret it.
I’m proud of myself for unleashing my feelings. No Cobalt would’ve sulked out of the hospital with a tail between their legs. They would’ve stood their ground. Held their head fucking high.
Pride indestructible in the face of adversaries.
I just never thought my dad would be one. Until now.
