Everett had spent the night at Cal's, so I'd spent the night drinking alone. Which was good, considering I hadn't been in any mood to listen to my best friend tell me that he'd been right. He tried to warn me. Lei and Lorde had too. They told me they wanted me to be happy, but I knew they'd never fully forgiven him for how he treated me before.

The moment he attacked me for speaking to his mother, I wished I'd listened to them.

I wished I'd never forgiven him, that I'd walked away when he apologized for his behavior. But no, I'd believed that he'd changed, believed that I could trust him. People made mistakes. Jumping to a conclusion once was understandable, even as far as Jace had taken things, but after spending nearly three weeks together, the fact that he could turn on a dime like that...

I took a slow breath and blew it out just as slowly. The cab's air conditioning was on high this afternoon – no surprise considering it was the first of August – and the cold air cooled me off as it filled my lungs. I'd gotten drunk enough last night to have a killer headache when I woke this morning, and enough alcohol lingered in my system that I was still a little nauseous. Worse, it meant that my emotions were still a bit too close to the surface.

I probably should have still been in bed, getting more hydrated and watching sappy rom coms with Everett, but the first thing I thought after the painkillers kicked in was that I had something I needed to do.

The café wasn't far from my apartment, but it was too hot to walk, especially when half-hungover from a fairly cheap bottle of wine. I ordered my usual Iced Chestnut Praline Latte, then looked around for the woman I'd come here to meet.

"Miss Birch?"

I turned to see a woman a couple inches taller than me, early fifties, but trying to look much younger. She was thin as well, but the kind that came from dieting too much to be healthy.

She didn't really look like Jace, but I had no doubt as to who she was.

"Ms. Randell." I put out my hand and she shook it. Or, rather, she put her limp, cold hand in mine and let me do the shaking.

"I have a table over here," she said.

I followed her, telling myself that I'd done the right thing by coming here. Jace may have turned out to be an asshole, but I believed his mother when she said it was a matter of life and death. If anything, the way he treated me made me think that maybe he was overly harsh about his mom too. But even if he was correct in assuming that she was exaggerating the importance of what she wanted to talk to him about, I wasn't going to let him use me to blow her off.

I hadn't intended to stay, but something in her eyes made me think that I should hear her out. I hadn't been too happy with my gut's judgement recently, but I decided to trust it here. If nothing else, I'd enjoy my latte and have some closure.

When we reached the back booth, I was surprised to see that it wasn't empty. The girl had short, rust-colored curls, and the sort of pale skin that made me think she was ill. She also looked enough like Veronica Randell for me to suspect that Jace had a half-sister. One I was almost certain he knew nothing about.

"Miss Birch," Veronica began.

"Savannah, please." I felt too much like it was work when she used my surname, and despite what Jace thought, I wasn't going to use anything I learned here in my article. Nor did I have any intention of sharing private information with Ms. Randell.

Veronica nodded as she slid into the booth next to her daughter. "Savannah, this is my daughter, Iggy."

I wasn't a journalist as much as an art critic, but I'd spent enough time interviewing people for human interest stories that I'd learned to read how to best get the information I wanted from my sources. Veronica was practically vibrating with her need to share, so I kept quiet rather than asking questions.

"Jace doesn't know about her," Veronica blurted out.

Iggy flushed, her eyes flicking to my face and then back down to the table. Her eyes were hazel like her mother's, but there was a sweetness in them that I didn't see in Veronica.

"I'm not proud of all the decisions I've made in my life," Veronica continued after a deep breath. "But I love my kids."

I nodded even though I wanted to comment on how poorly she demonstrated that love with her son. It wasn't my place, and if I was going to be more honest with myself than I had been lately, it had never been my place. Jace and I hadn't been dating. We'd been fucking.

I pushed that thought, and the pain that went with it, to the back of my mind.

"I know I've asked Jace for a lot over the years, and it's mostly been selfish reasons, but it's been for Iggy too." She put her hand on her daughter's arm. "Her father's not a part of her life. I got involved with him when he was married, and when I got pregnant, he ended things. He gave me a chunk of money to stay away and never contact him again."

Judging by the lack of surprise on Iggy's face, this wasn't the first time she heard the story of how she'd been conceived, but the way her ears were turning red told me that it still bothered her. Veronica, not surprisingly, kept talking as if everything she was saying was merely backstory that needed to come out before she could get to her real reason for being here.

"A couple weeks ago, Iggy went into the hospital and–" Veronica's voice cracked, and it was Iggy's turn to comfort her mother.

"I have chronic lymphocytic leukemia." Iggy's voice was soft but unwavering. "It's...I need a bone marrow transplant."

"And Jace is your half-brother," I said, leaning back in my seat. Shit. This was not what I expected when I agreed to meet Veronica this morning.

Iggy nodded. "I don't know if he's a match, but Mom isn't, and my dad..." She lifted her chin, a familiar stubborn glint coming into her eyes. "I don't want Jace's money, and I understand if he doesn't want to meet me, but if he'd just agree to be tested..." She shrugged, looking as helpless as I felt.

"It's advanced." Veronica picked things back up. "So, the chances of her finding a non-relative match before–"

The tears came now, and no matter how shitty of a mother she'd been to Jace, I had no doubt this show of grief was real. Even if it wasn't, I wouldn't let a child suffer because her mother was immature, and her brother was a jackass. My own feelings and pride didn't matter, not when compared to this girl's life. I'd do whatever I needed to do to get her the help she needed.