“No,” I whispered.
I smacked a hand over my mouth to hide my sob. This couldn’t be. Ana couldn’t have HIV. She couldn’t live day after day, feeding herself pills for the rest of her goddamn life. I … who … f**k.
I … who … fuck.João stood beside me, jaw twitching and fingers pressed so hard against the countertop that they turned white. I didn’t know what to say to him. That had to be one of the most f****d up things I had ever heard.
How could a father let that happen? How could someone live with themselves after letting their daughter crawl all over bloodied needles? Ana’s life was and would forever be in danger, especially if she didn’t get medication.
No wonder João hated his father and all the Redwood rich.
Instead of telling him that it was okay—because this wasn’t in the slighte
