Your Betrayal Was Just My Mission

The system’s chime echoed in my mind just as a fresh wave of agony bloomed behind my ribs. I slumped against the cold, sterile tiles of the hospital corridor, clutching my chest.

Every word of the conversation between my fiancée and my sister was a jagged shard of ice, driven straight into my marrow. They had lied. The four failed heart matches, the months of agonizing "bad luck"—it was all a fabrication, a cruel game played to appease the "real" son who had suddenly appeared in our lives.