Free Sisters by Patricia MacDonald Page A

what happened?’
    Alex sighed. ‘Well, I went to see her.’
    ‘How was that?’ he asked.
    Alex hesitated. ‘Difficult. Upsetting.’
    ‘No shit.’
    ‘Then her parents came by here last night. They basically said that Dory was bad to the bone, and that I should stay as far away from her as possible.’
    ‘But you don’t feel that way?’ he asked.
    Alex shook her head. ‘I don’t know what I feel. They know her better than I do. I spent half an hour with her. Maybe they’re right,’ she cried. Then she exhaled. ‘I just don’t know.’
    ‘Then look farther,’ he said.
    Alex looked at him in surprise. ‘You’re not going to tell me to stay away from her?’
    ‘Why would I do that?’ he said. ‘You’re an intelligent woman. Make up your own mind.’ He looked over his shoulder. ‘Have you got a plan for those cartons over there?’ he asked, pointing to a pile of boxes from the liquor store.
    She shook her head.
    ‘Look, Alex, I’m not trying to be flippant,’ he said. ‘I just think you have to trust yourself. Do you know what you’re going to do?’
    Alex shrugged. ‘I located her old boyfriend. I thought I might go and talk to him. Maybe he can shed some light on what happened.’
    ‘You may as well,’ he said. ‘I would if I were you.’ He walked over to the bookshelf and reverently pulled down a volume.
    ‘You would?’ she said.
    He turned a few pages in the book, and then looked up at her. ‘If I wanted to know more, yes, I would. Obviously you are not satisfied with what you know now.’
    ‘No, I’m not.’
    ‘So go,’ he said.
    Alex hesitated. ‘You’re right. I’m gonna do it. But you can stay and look at the books.’
    ‘I’ll come back another time,’ Seth said, setting down the volume on the desk and following her out of the office. Alex opened the front door for him.
    ‘Anytime,’ she said, and then blushed at the eagerness in her voice.
    Seth did not seem to notice. ‘There’s no hurry,’ he said.
    Too impatient to wait for the train, Alex drove into town and parked in a lot near Copley Square. She walked to the podiatrist’s office, located in a relatively new high-rise block along the wide boulevard that was Huntington Avenue.
    She gave her name to the receptionist.
    ‘Can you fill out these forms for me?’ asked the receptionist, handing over a clipboard. ‘Do you have insurance?’
    Alex handed over her card.
    ‘Your co-pay is thirty dollars,’ said the receptionist.
    Cheap enough for a chance to talk with the man for whom Dory had murdered her own sister. Alex gave the receptionist cash and sat down to fill out the forms. The man in the seat nearest to her was wearing one normal shoe, and one with the sides cut out so that his socks were exposed. Alex tried not to look too closely. She handed the clipboard back and thumbed through a magazine until a patient limped out of the doctor’s office and began to discuss her bill with the receptionist.
    ‘Ms Woods,’ the woman said, pointing to the office door.
    Alex went inside and sat down in a metal chair in the examining room. The walls were decorated with charts showing the musculature of the foot, interspersed with photos of a tall, shaggy-looking dog with what appeared to be eyebrows over soulful brown eyes and a handlebar mustache. In a few minutes, the white-coated doctor entered, a chart held protectively across his chest. He was on the short side, with thinning dark brown hair and a pleasant, unremarkable face.
    ‘Thanks for seeing me, Dr Howland,’ she said.
    ‘Miss Woods. What seems to be the problem?’ he asked. ‘You left it blank on your chart.’
    ‘The problem is . . .’ Alex thought about how to say it. ‘I have recently learned that I am Dory Colson’s half-sister.’
    The doctor recoiled and stared at her.
    ‘I only met Dory the other day for the first time. You can imagine that this is all very disturbing – to find out that the sister you never knew you had is in prison