Chapter 2

Early the next morning, while still pretending to be unconscious, nurses wheeled me into the OR.

The harsh surgical lights glared overhead. Metallic instruments clinked in the cold, sterile air.

Through the observation glass, I caught a blurry glimpse of the family waiting outside.

Victoria clutched a handkerchief to her mouth, eyes rimmed in red, playing the devoted, grieving mother to perfection.

Chloe leaned against her, a barely suppressed smirk playing on her lips.

Dr. White pulled on his sterile mask, grabbed the scalpel, and gave Richard a confident thumbs-up through the glass.

"Begin general anesthesia."

Cold liquid surged through my IV. I gave that loving family one last glance.

Then, my mind plunged into total darkness.

...

"It's a success! The transplant was a complete success!"

Sometime later, a chorus of ecstatic cheers woke my consciousness.

Of course, I didn't actually wake up.

My body had already been officially logged: Died of massive intraoperative hemorrhage; resuscitation failed.

Right now, "I" was merely a lingering, detached soul hovering above.

I saw Julian wheeled out of the operating room. The monitors beeped with steady, perfect vitals.

Victoria rushed forward the second she saw her son.

"Julian! My baby! You're back!"

Even Richard allowed a rare smile to break across his stern face. Holding back tears, he gripped Dr. White's shoulder.

"Thank you, Doctor."

Chloe jumped up and down in excitement.

"Yes! Julian is safe!"

They huddled around Julian, celebrating his rebirth.

Meanwhile, in the adjacent operating room, my discarded corpse was slowly turning to ice.

Nobody cared.

When Victoria walked past the gurney carrying my body, she turned her head away in disgust, as if glancing at me would bring a curse upon her family.

"Mom, look. What is that?"

Chloe suddenly pointed at the bedside table in my empty recovery room.

An envelope sat there.

It was my handwriting.

Addressed to: Mom and Dad.

Frowning in annoyance, Victoria snatched the envelope and tore it open.

Richard and Chloe leaned in, curious.

Inside were just a few short lines:

[Dad, Mom, thank you for finding me. Thank you for giving me the chance to save my brother.

The truth is, back in the countryside, the doctors already diagnosed me with terminal heart failure. They told me I had less than three months to live.

To trade this dying, useless heart for my brother's lifelong health is the greatest honor of my life.

Goodbye. I love you both.]

The letter slipped from Victoria's fingers, fluttering to the floor.

Her face drained of all color. Her lips trembled violently, unable to form a single word.

Richard snatched the paper off the ground, read it three times, and ripped it to shreds in a blind fury.

"Nonsense! That's impossible! Dr. White swore this heart was in peak condition!"

He roared like a wounded animal clinging to a thread of denial.

"Get White in here! Now!"

Right then, a shrill, deafening alarm shrieked from Julian's room!

Beep—beep—BEEEEEEEP—

The steady rhythm on the monitor collapsed into a jagged drop, then flattened into a piercing, endless line.

A young nurse tumbled out of the room, shaking uncontrollably.

"Mr. Hayes! Code blue!"

"Your son... he has no pulse!"