Chapter 1

Five years after a car accident left me paralyzed, I signed my organ donor registry form.

As my heart began to fail, I called my mother, wanting to hear her voice one last time.

"Chloe, why don't you just die already? Stop ruining everyone's lives!"

"You shouldn't even be drawing breath in this world!"

When she slammed the phone down, I smiled.

Because I was finally going to die, just as she wished.

But when my cold corpse ended up on her operating table, she completely lost her mind.

Today was my birthday. I sat alone in my wheelchair in my cramped basement apartment. Just like every other year, there was no one else here.

It was just like my mother always said—my birth was a disgusting mistake. I didn't deserve to celebrate.

Staring into the pitch-black room, a crushing weight pressed down on my chest. It felt like something was expanding inside me, stealing my air.

Ever since the accident paralyzed me, I had signed up to be an organ donor. Knowing my time was short, I had already notified the donor registry staff.

As the suffocating pain intensified, I knew it was finally ending.

It was an agonizing sensation I’d never felt before. It felt as though an invisible hand was squeezing my heart to pieces.

Every breath felt like inhaling frozen needles, piercing my lungs.

Yet, in that final moment, I didn't know if I felt sad or incredibly relieved.

Tragic, painful memories flashed before my eyes like a broken film reel.

The feeling in my limbs was slipping away completely.

With the last bit of strength in my fingers, I picked up my phone.

I slid my thumb across the screen and dialed that all-too-familiar number.

I knew this would be my last connection to the living world.

The call connected. My heart skipped a painful beat.

"Chloe, what is wrong with you? Why are you calling to annoy me again?" Eleanor’s voice crackled through the speaker, dripping with absolute disgust.

"Mom... I think... I'm dying," I whispered. My voice trembled, yet I sounded strangely at peace.

Her tone didn't soften for a second. "Chloe, what kind of sick game are you playing now? Are you not tired of lying to get attention?"

"It's real this time..." My breath hitched. The last word took every ounce of energy left in my body.

"Fine! Do us all a favor and just die already! Stop being a curse on everyone!"

"You shouldn't even be drawing breath in this world!"

"Beep. Beep. Beep."

The line went dead. In the final second of my life, a smile touched my lips.

I finally did what she wanted. I died.

Shortly after my soul detached from my body, the paramedics arrived.

My lifeless body slumped in the wheelchair looked horrifying in the dark, empty basement.

They bowed their heads to my corpse, covered me with a white sheet bearing the red cross, and wheeled me into the ambulance.

I thought my soul would finally drift away into the afterlife. But a powerful, invisible force dragged me along, keeping me tethered to my physical body.

Organ donors are sent to different hospitals depending on which facility needs the match immediately.

As the streets outside the ambulance window grew familiar, my ghostly heart tightened.

The ambulance pulled up to Westside General Hospital.

This was a place I had visited in my nightmares a thousand times.

This was where my mother, Dr. Eleanor Thorne, worked. It was the only place I knew I could ever find her.

People bustled through the busy hallways. My invisible spirit floated past the doctors and nurses.

And then, I saw her. The woman I couldn't forget even in death.

She was laughing. She looked happier than I had ever seen her.

Beside her, another surgeon was prepping for a procedure. "Eleanor, you’re so lucky. You finally found a matching liver for Maya."

A few young nurses nearby chimed in. "I heard the donor is the exact same age as Maya. What a tragedy for the donor's family. They must be devastated."

"Dr. Thorne loves Maya so much. She spent a fortune to bump her up on the priority list. Maya is so lucky to have a mother like you."

A nurse said while organizing the surgical instruments.

"Every mother loves her child. It’s only natural to want them to be healthy," Eleanor replied, her lips curving into a warm, gentle smile.

"Every mother loves her child."

I let out a bitter, silent laugh. Even as a ghost, I could feel a stinging pain where my heart used to be.

"But Mom... wasn't I your daughter too?"

Eleanor pulled out her phone and sent a Snapchat to Maya. The contact name was saved as "My Precious Angel."

As she swiped back to her main chat screen, my eyes caught another contact name. Saved right below "My Precious Angel" was "The Mistake."

That was me.