Chapter 3

A few days after returning to school, Mom called.

“Hannah, your dad and I went to the hospital today. The doctor said your father’s sperm is still okay, even though the DNA fragmentation and abnormality rates are a little high. But my eggs aren’t great. We’ll need third-generation IVF, which will cost even more.”

“So, try to pick up more tutoring jobs or a part-time waitress gig. Save up some money and send it to me. Your aunt told me I should be eating health foods like those organic smoothies to improve my eggs.”

It was just like last time. When I had refused to let her go through with IVF, she’d constantly called me, complaining about headaches or fevers, and demanded that I work more to send her money for supplements.

I had sympathized with her then, figuring Dad’s old-fashioned ways left her feeling unsupported. I always found a way to send her money, no matter how tight things were for me.

But now, I stretched, feeling no such sympathy, and replied casually, “Mom, I have way more coursework this year and barely any time for a side job. And at the hospital, they only give us free housing and meals—no pay. I’m almost out of money myself. Can you send me $500?”

Her voice became evasive. “Oh, well, I don’t have any money either! Your dad controls the finances, and it’s all going towards the IVF. If you need money, talk to him!”

Before I could say anything else, she hung up.

I set my phone aside and got back to my PowerPoint.

After all, my new hustle of creating medical case presentations was bringing in $500 a pop.