“She is an infant, Tessa,” Rowan said, his voice shaking with a rare, controlled rage. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“She has everything to do with this,” Tessa whispered.

She reached up with her free hand and patted his cheek, a gesture that looked affectionate to anyone watching from a distance.

“My father’s heart is failing, Rowan,” she said, her voice completely devoid of emotion.

“The doctors found a very specific compatibility in your daughter’s cellular profile.”

I felt the air leave my lungs, my knees going weak.

I gripped the edge of my tray to keep from dropping it.

“What did you do to her?” Rowan demanded, his grip on her wrist tightening.

“We are keeping my father alive,” Tessa said, her eyes locked onto his. “And she is the key to his survival.”

“She needs continuous genetic therapies, Rowan. And we are the only ones who can administer them.”

“If you interfere, the treatments stop.”

“And if they stop, Clara’s heart stops too.”

Rowan stared at her, his face pale and rigid.

Suddenly, the phone in Rowan’s pocket began to vibrate against his thigh.