Jane was silent for a moment before quietly asking, “What if I really were dying?”
Mrs. Faulkner scoffed. “Then come over. I’m with Summer right now.”
She didn’t believe her.
Jane wasn’t actually sick, but Mrs. Faulkner’s reaction still made her heart grow cold.
She arrived at the hospital and handed the crumpled donation agreement to Mrs. Faulkner.
Mrs. Faulkner didn’t even glance at it before signing her name with a flourish.
She even sneered, “Summer, your sister says she’s dying. Do you believe her?”
Summer bit her lip, looking hurt. “Jane, I know I’ve been such a burden to you lately, but you don’t have to make up lies to scare us…”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve been looking for other donors with the same blood type. I won’t keep bothering you. I promise.”
Just as she finished speaking, William walked in.
He was holding a bouquet of baby’s breath–Summer’s favorite flowers.
“Who upset the Faulkner princess this time?” he teased gently.
Summer let out a tearful laugh. “William, don’t joke around. No one upset me. I’m just feeling a little embarrassed.”
“My body’s been so weak… I’m almost thirty years old, and I still have to rely on my sister’s blood to stay alive…”
William hesitated for a moment, then turned to look at Jane.
She was standing there, thin and frail, her cheeks hollowed out. She looked almost sickly–though maybe it was just anemia from everything she’d been through recently.
William tried to smooth things over. “Come on now. Jane’s your sister. She’d never blame you for anything.”
Their mother, however, was less patient. “Jane, aren’t you going to apologize to your sister?”
“You’re in your late twenties. How do you still not understand gratitude? If it weren’t for Summer’s illness, do you think we would’ve even had you? Let alone let you stand here now, threatening us like this?”
Jane froze in place, her resolve crumbling under those few short sentences.
She had always known. If it hadn’t been for Summer’s severe anemia and rare blood type, her parents never would’ve had her.
She wouldn’t exist.
D
9:16 AM
<
But hearing it said out loud, hearing her worth as a person reduced to nothing, still felt like a knife twisting in her chest, leaving her breathless.
Instinctively, she looked to William.
Once, he had been the one to tell her she wasn’t anyone’s accessory.
But now, William avoided her gaze.
“Jane,” he said quietly, “the doctor said Summer needs to stay in good spirits…”
“Just apologize to her. Make her feel better.”
Jane’s entire body trembled. She took a step back and let out a hollow laugh.
“Why should I apologize?” she asked, her voice steady but her eyes defiant.
William stepped closer, frowning deeply. He lowered his voice and said, “Summer’s sick. Her health is fragile. Can’t you just be a little more understanding?”
All her life, Jane had been the “understanding” one.
Because of William, she had learned to rebel, to stop being “understanding.”
But now, the person asking her to be understanding again… was William.
She blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall, but her eyes still turned red.
“William, I’m sick too. My health is failing. I’m dying. Can she, for once, show some understanding for me?”
The truth was, Jane’s body wasn’t completely fine.
The doctor had warned her that if she kept donating blood and overextending herself, her immune system would eventually collapse. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when.
So yes, she had been losing weight–rapidly.
But no one seemed to notice.
William’s brow furrowed, carving deep lines across his face. His patience was wearing thin.
“Jane, stop this nonsense, will you?” he said with a sigh. “No matter what, Summer is your sister–your blood relative. And now, just to avoid donating blood, you’re making up lies like this?”
“Why are you even wasting time arguing with her?” Jane’s mother snapped coldly. “William, you need to keep an eye on her. What if she runs off the day Summer has her surgery?”
“Mom, don’t say that…” Summer interjected quickly, her voice soft and soothing. “Jane, don’t worry. I’ll do my best to find other donors with the same blood type in the next few days. I won’t keep troubling you.”
“She won’t run,” William said, taking Jane’s hand and pulling her out of the room. “I’ll take you home.”
It had been a while since Jane had ridden in William’s car. Out of habit, she climbed into the passenger seat.
When William first got this car, Jane had joked with him, “The passenger seat is for your girlfriend only.”
He had laughed and said, “Don’t worry. Without Miss Jane’s permission, no one else will ever sit here.”
But now, as she opened the door, she froze.
The seat–the seat that had once been hers–was customized for Summer. A wheelchair, neatly folded, was placed there for easy access.
9:16
<
The seat was adjusted far forward to accommodate Summer’s slim frame.
And the faint scent of Summer’s perfume lingered in the air, unmistakable and pervasive.
William approached, reaching for the wheelchair, but Jane stopped him.
“Forget it. I’ll sit in the back,” she said.
William hesitated, then offered an explanation. “She sits in the front so I can keep an eye on her. It’s easier for me to take care of her that way.”
“I know. I know everything,” Jane said, rolling down the window. The hot night air rushed in, tangling her hair in disarray. Her voice, however, was lifeless, a barren wasteland devoid of emotion. “Everything is about my sister. Her health is all that matters. I don’t matter. Even if I’m dying,
it doesn’t matter.”
William slammed on the brakes, the car jerking to a halt.
He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, staring into the rearview mirror.
When he finally spoke, his voice was heavy with frustration. “Jane, how can you say that? I’m really disappointed in you.”
Jane laughed softly at his words, the sound light and hollow.
William pressed on.
“If it weren’t for your sister, I’d be the one who went to prison back then. I’d be the one who almost ended up crippled. I owe her too much, Jane. I can’t just walk away from her.
“And she’s your sister, your family. How can you be so cold to her?”
He exhaled sharply, his frustration spilling over. “Half a year ago, I went with you to get a full check–up. The doctor said you were perfectly healthy. It’s just some blood, Jane. Donating it won’t kill you.
“Can’t you hold on for just a little longer? Once Summer’s surgery is over, everything will be fine.”
Jane looked at him, and for the first time, she realized she had never truly known this man.
This was the man who had once saved her from her cage.
And now, he was the one locking her back inside.
Jane’s voice was calm when she asked, “You’re not planning to just take care of her for a little while, are you?”
William froze, a flicker of panic crossing his face.
“I saw the property deed, Jane continued. “She’s going to be living next door to us. You’re planning to take care of her for the rest of your life.”
William pounded his fist against the steering wheel, his eyes bloodshot. “I owe her!”
“Then keep owing her,” Jane said as she pushed the car door open and stepped out.
Before walking away, she turned and added, “William, I hope you and the Faulkners understand one thing: I don’t owe Summer anything.”
Her figure quickly disappeared into the crowd.
William remained in the car, sitting in stunned silence. His mind replayed the look Jane had given him before she left. Her gaze had been calm, but there was a finality to it–decisive and unyielding.
His eyes drifted to the back seat, where a slip of paper caught his attention.
