Chapter 1

1

On the day of the bone marrow transplant, my mother called me.

"Why are you faking another illness?" she snapped. "It's just a bone marrow donation. Who are you putting on this pathetic show for?"

My younger brother chimed in from the background. "How can you be so vicious? You owe her your life! Even if she asked you to die, you'd deserve it."

Even my boyfriend could not hide his rage.

"It's just bone marrow, Yara. She isn't asking you to die. How can you be so damn selfish?"

None of them knew that with my condition, this donation would kill me.

If death was what they wanted from me, then fine. I would give it to them.

I had known since childhood that I owed Sally Reed two lives.

When we were little, her parents had died saving me in a terrible car crash.

When the paramedics found me, I didn't have a single scratch on me. My cheeks were flushed with healthy pink.

Sally's parents, on the other hand, died on the spot before the ambulance could even reach the hospital.

My parents were educated, respectable people who cared about their reputation more than anything.

To keep the neighbors from whispering and judging us, they took Sally into our home.

Mom stroked my head back then and gave me an order.

"Yara, you have to take care of Sally from now on. You owe her this."

Back then, there was still a trace of pity in my mother's eyes. But over the years, that pity curdled into pure disgust.

Sally became the golden child, the shining trophy they showed off to the world.

When we were in middle school, Mom drove to campus every single day just to bring Sally warm, homemade lunches.

I threw a few childish tantrums because I felt left out. Mom slapped me across the face and knocked me to the floor.

"What right do you have to throw a fit?" she sneered. "You killed Sally's parents, and you still have the nerve to bully her? Her health is ruined because of you!"

Mom looked at me with vicious contempt. She even kicked me while I was down, as if I were a piece of trash.

Back then, I was too young to understand why my parents changed so suddenly. I could only curl up, hugging my knees, and cry in silence.

From that day on, labels followed me like shadows: cold, cruel, ungrateful, worthless.

"Where is the patient's family?"

The doctor's voice startled me out of my thoughts.

I looked toward the empty hallway. There was no one waiting for me, and no one caring if I lived or died.

I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and forced a self-deprecating smile.

"It's just... me."

A piercing ringtone cut off the rest of my sentence. With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone.

A sharp wave of pain twisted in my stomach. The sweet nurse beside me gently held the phone to my ear.

It was Mom.

"Where the hell are you, Yara?" she yelled, her voice vibrating through the receiver. "Don't you know your sister is in agony waiting for you?"

"I'm at the hospital," I managed to choke out after catching my breath.

My short response only infuriated her more.

"What illness are you faking now? It's just a bone marrow donation! Who are you trying to guilt-trip with this act?"

Her words pierced straight through my chest. Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably.

Dad's voice echoed in the background.

"You know she's an ungrateful wretch," he chimed in, adding fuel to the fire. "Faking sick is just her way of playing the victim."

Dad always knew how to push Mom's buttons, tossing me straight into the flames.

"Right, I almost forgot what a rotten brat we raised," Mom scoffed.

"Listen to me, Yara. Even if you drop dead, you're donating that marrow to Sally."

"If your match wasn't the closest, I wouldn't even waste my breath on you. A selfish person like you has dirty blood anyway."

"I'm honestly worried your tainted blood will ruin Sally's pure heart!"

A barrage of insults poured through the line, and I curled tighter into the hospital bed.

Yes, Sally was always the kindest, the sweetest, the most perfect angel.

She demanded my bone marrow, and I was supposed to kneel and thank her for the privilege.

In their eyes, I deserved all the pain. I was disgusting, a sinner who didn't deserve to breathe.

Suffocating pain clamped around my chest.

I gasped for air, trying to steady my racing thoughts, but someone else took the phone.

It was my younger brother, the boy I had raised with my own hands.

"How can you be so evil?" Zach sneered coldly. "You owe her everything. Even if she asked you to die, you'd deserve it!"

He delivered the most venomous curse in the calmest tone. I clutched my head, the word 'die' echoing endlessly in my ears.

Everyone hated me and misunderstood me. But what right did Zach have to say that?

He knew the truth. He was there.