Chapter 3

"Delete the video."

Patrick tossed his phone onto the edge of the bed. I didn't touch it. I only asked him,

"Where's Leslie?"

"Still in the transplant center."

I pulled back the blanket and got out of bed. The moment my knees hit the floor they buckled with pain, and Patrick reached out to catch me. His voice finally softened.

"Stephanie, stop putting yourself through this. Sophie's already gone. We still have Leslie, and we can have another daughter someday. When that happens, we'll still be a family of four. Nothing has to change."

His palm was warm, and he smelled of the perfume Melanie always wore.

Disgusting.

I shoved him off hard, doubled over the edge of the bed, and heaved until my whole body shook. There was nothing in my stomach, only sour bile rising again and again.

Patrick's face went dark.

"Stephanie, don't push your luck. What, I touch you once and now you can't stand it?"

I wiped my mouth and only repeated it.

"I want to see Leslie."

After I begged and struggled, I found Leslie outside the donor ward, pressed up against the glass, waiting for me.

The moment he saw me he lifted up the hero's badge Sophie had given him.

"Mommy, has sis gone to heaven already? I miss her so much. When can I see her again?"

I flattened my hand against the glass, forced the lump in my throat back down, and comforted him.

"Sophie's doing very well right now. She wanted Mommy to tell you that when you saved her, you were so brave. Like a real superhero."

His eyes went red, but he still tried to smile at me.

"That's so good! Then I'll do the draw one more time and bring sis back!"

Draw? What had Patrick told Leslie?

My chest felt like it was being torn open. Before I could answer, Melanie was already walking over with people from the hospital.

"Stephanie, you posted that video from the cemetery, so now there are reporters all over the hallway outside Irvin's ward, and now you want to take Leslie away too. Are you trying to cut off my son's only chance to live?"

She held out a rejection report. The look in her eyes was pure, bone-deep hatred.

Irvin's first transplant had failed. They needed another harvest.

I slapped the test results Dr. Dickerson had given me down in front of Patrick, my eyes red.

"Leslie has a fever that won't break, and his platelets are half the normal level. You signed the risk disclosure. You know he'll die!"

Melanie was crying, tugging at his sleeve.

"Patrick, Irvin's out of time."

I stared at Patrick, not looking away.

"When Sophie was waiting for marrow, you saw her critical-condition assessment too, didn't you?"

He was silent for a long time. At last he spoke.

"I saw it."

Three words, and they crushed the last shred of hope I'd been holding onto.

"You knew Sophie wouldn't last three days?"

"The overseas donor was already going through confirmation. I thought she could hold on. Irvin only had Leslie as a donor back then. I could only save him first."

"So you gambled your own daughter's life on an outcome you knew was already lost? Patrick, you're heartless."

Anger flickered in Patrick's eyes.

"Stephanie, you schemed your way into marrying me back then, didn't you? Wasn't it all for this? You could use me as your stepping stone, so why can't I let Leslie save Irvin just once?"

I grabbed the scissors off the treatment tray and lunged at him. A security guard slammed into me, and the scissors only grazed his arm.

Melanie shrieked, snatched up a shattered medicine vial, and cut a bleeding line across her own wrist.

"It's all my fault. I'll pay Sophie back with my life right now!"

Patrick dropped me at once, caught her in his arms, and shouted for a doctor.

The next second, a shrill alarm went off in Irvin's ward.

Her face streaming with tears, Melanie begged him:

"Patrick, save Irvin. Please."

Dr. Dickerson was blocking the door of the harvest room, still making his last stand.

"Leslie's infection hasn't cleared. If you do a second harvest now, he may never come off that operating table!"

Patrick glanced at his son behind the glass.

Leslie was patting the door, calling for his daddy.

He paused for a moment. Guilt crossed his face and was gone. Then he still took the consent form and signed his name in the guardian's line.

"Harvest him now. If anything goes wrong, I'll take responsibility."