3
Mrs. Whitmore raised her hand calmly. “I agree. Whether Savannah is mine by blood or not, I’ll always love her.”
And just like that, the two of them handed me a death sentence without a second thought.
I choked out, “Mom…”
Even now, I couldn’t let go of the hope that she might feel something for me. That after all these years, there was some bond, however faint, between us.
Maybe it was my desperate tone, but she finally turned around. For a moment, she didn’t move.
James frowned and grabbed her wrist. She gently patted his hand before stepping toward me. Her eyes were red, and her voice trembled slightly.
“Jessica,” she said, “Savannah is my flesh and blood. She’s my real daughter.”
“For years, I’ve dreamed of her, loved her, waited for her. You have to give her your kidney.”
She took a deep breath. “I asked the doctors. You won’t die. At worst, you’ll be unable to take care of yourself for a while.”
“When you recover, I promise I’ll love you. I’ll make it up to you.”
Twenty years of hope disintegrated into nothing.
All I got in return was, You won’t die.
I laughed bitterly, a hollow sound that echoed in the room. “I won’t survive this,” I whispered, almost to myself. “I’m going to die.”
My mom’s face twisted in panic. “No! That’s impossible! Your brother will perform the surgery himself!”
Even if James was the most skilled surgeon in the world, he couldn’t save someone who no longer wanted to live.
My father, who had been silent the entire time, helped me up and secured me to the operating table like I was some animal being prepared for slaughter.
D
6:10 PM d
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James held the consent form in his hands. My mother quickly signed her name.
I lay there, head turned to the side, watching helplessly as they prepared to wheel me into the operating room.
I blinked at the ceiling, tears streaming down my face. Then I forced a smile–one uglier than any cry.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “Take my kidney, my life, whatever you want. But I have one condition.”
James frowned. “What now? Are you still trying to fight this?”
“Savannah suffered for twenty years because of you,” he snapped. “She’s the one who was robbed of her life with Mom. And you still think you have the right to ask for anything?”
Suffered?
Who had really suffered all these years? I hadn’t just been robbed of my family–I was being asked to wager my life to pay for it.
All I wanted was one answer.
My father sighed. “Let her have this. After everything, Jessica deserves to know.”
“Fine,” my mom said coldly. “Let’s do the test. But after this, don’t ever call me your mother again.”
I smiled faintly.
Finally, after twenty years, I could let go of this hollow, one–sided love.
