Chapter 3

Lawrence immediately placed a hand on her shoulder. “Lorinne, stop. You don't have to give anything back. You didn't do anything wrong.”

I stared at his hand.

There it was again. That tenderness. That protection. Everything I'd begged for from him, he gave her without hesitation.

I looked at him. “Then what am I supposed to wait for?”

He frowned.

“Another transplant?” I laughed bitterly. “Another miracle?” My breathing became uneven. “Or are you waiting for me to die so you won't have to feel guilty about this?”

His eyes hardened. “Don't you dare say that.” He stepped closer. “I'm your husband, Stella. You don't get to speak to me as if I'm some stranger who wanted you dead. You're alive because people took care of you, and you need to respect that.”

“Alive?” I stared at him. “I'm barely surviving, Lawrence.”

My mother suddenly spoke, “Stella, enough. You need to understand the situation. We've spent our whole lives putting other people first. Lorinne needed those lungs, and we made the decision we thought was necessary.”

I shook my head. “You always say that.” I looked at my parents. “Put others first. Be understanding. Be patient. But somehow, I'm always the one who has to sacrifice.”

My eyes moved back to Lawrence. “My life. My chance. My lungs.” I laughed weakly. “And you all stood there smiling.”

My mother's face slowly changed. The color drained from it, and her lips started trembling. “You... you really think we don't care about you?”

My father stepped forward, his face red with anger. “How dare you speak to your mother that way? After everything she's done for you?”

I looked at him.

Everything?

What had they actually done for me?

Before I could answer, Lorinne suddenly dropped to her knees. “I'll give them back!” She was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. “I'll find the doctors. I'll tell them to take the lungs out. Stella can have them. I don't deserve them. I don't deserve to be alive after taking what was supposed to save her.”

She tried to crawl toward the door, but my mother rushed after her and pulled her into a tight hug. “Lorinne, stop. Don't you ever say that again.”

Then she looked at me, her eyes cold. “I never thought you'd become this cruel, Stella. She just had a transplant, and you're telling her to have her lungs removed? Do you even hear yourself? You're asking us to kill her.”

My lips trembled. “I just want to live too.” The words came out so quietly that I almost didn't recognize my own voice. “Is that really so wrong?”

Nobody answered.

My mother held Lorinne closer. “Listen carefully, Stella. Lorinne is my daughter too and I'm going to take care of her until she's completely recovered. When you're calm and ready to apologize, then we'll talk.”

She took Lorinne's hand and walked out of the room.

My father stood there for a moment, staring at me with disappointment.

Lawrence did the same.

For one stupid second, I hoped he'd stay.

He didn't.

They followed my mother and Lorinne out of the room.Through the ICU window, I watched them in the hallway.

Mom was gently wiping Lorinne's tears while Lawrence kept one hand on her back, holding her close as if she might break. Dad stood beside them, bending down to say something that made Lorinne cry even harder.

They looked like one happy family.

A perfect little family that somehow didn't have me in it.

I sank back against my pillow and stared at the ceiling, listening to my own breathing through the oxygen mask. Every breath felt heavy. My lungs were getting weaker, and I knew my body couldn't keep fighting forever.

Was dying really the worst thing that could happen to me?

Maybe not.

Dr. Samuel stayed quiet for a long time before finally pulling a chair closer to my bed. He glanced toward the door, then lowered his voice. “Stella, there's something you need to know. A donor lung became available last week, and the match was excellent for you. You had a real chance.”

My heart jumped.

Then his expression changed.

“But Lawrence Santiago and your parents signed the paperwork to redirect the lungs to another patient again.”

I stared at him.

For a second, I honestly thought I'd heard him wrong. “There was a matching donor?” My voice came out weak. “You're telling me there were lungs that could've saved me, and they gave them to someone else?”

Dr. Samuel looked down at his hands. “Yes. The other patient needed a transplant too, but your condition was worse. Everyone on the transplant team knew you were deteriorating faster.”

I swallowed painfully. “So they knew.”

He nodded.

“They knew I was running out of time, and they still gave my lungs away.”

Dr. Samuel didn't answer.

Of course.

Lawrence and my parents wanted to prove they weren't giving me special treatment. They wanted everyone to believe they were fair and reasonable.

Even if being fair meant watching their own daughter and wife die.

I forced myself to smile beneath the oxygen mask. “Thank you for telling me, Dr. Samuel.”

“Stella, please don't give up yet. I've already contacted other transplant centers, and I'll keep pushing for you. There are still possibilities.”

“No.” I shook my head weakly. “Please don't.”

I took a shaky breath before continuing. “Bring me a pen and some paper. I want to write my will. And I want the paperwork prepared to legally cut ties with my husband and my parents. I don't want anything connecting me to them anymore.”

His eyes widened. “You don't have to decide all of that while you're this sick.”

“I do.” My voice cracked, but I didn't take it back. “If they've already chosen to live without me, then I should at least have the right to leave them behind.”

Dr. Samuel stayed silent.

“And bring me the organ donation forms too,” I added. “If I don't get a lung transplant in time, I want whatever can still be used from my body to go to someone who needs it.”

He stared at me.

“I want my death to help somebody. At least then, it won't be completely pointless.”

He eventually nodded.

He didn't try to argue again.

Lawrence never came back.

Neither did Mom or Dad.

But Lorinne did.

She started sending me videos every day.

The first one showed my bedroom.

Or what used to be my bedroom.

My books were packed into boxes. My clothes were gone from the closet, and workers were repainting the walls.

Lorinne turned the camera toward herself and smiled. “Stella, Lawrence said this room has better airflow, so he thinks it'll be better for my recovery. He wants me to sleep here for a while.”

Mom laughed softly somewhere behind the camera. “Of course, sweetheart. You need the best room in the house. You've been through so much.”

I closed my eyes.

Did they even remember this was my room?

Another video came that night.

Lorinne was curled up under my blanket when Lawrence walked in. He looked exhausted, but the second he saw her, his whole face softened.

“Did you take your medicine, baby?” he asked.

Lorinne smiled. “I did. You remind me every single time, hubby.”

Hubby?