Chapter 1

It took two lifetimes to realize my mother's obsession with her brother was terminal. There was no cure for her brand of madness.

She drained our family dry just to ensure my uncle lived in luxury. Every drop of our blood was a sacrifice on the altar of his happiness.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the eve of my high school entrance exams. My brainwashed mother was already at it, putting on her best performance of maternal guilt.

"Your Uncle Terrence has always been good to you, Ruby," she pleaded, her voice dripping with fake sincerity. "If you don't donate your kidney to him, you're heartless. You'd be the one killing him."

1

"Your blood types are a perfect match, and the tests were a success. It's fate, Ruby!" My mother, Cynthia, wouldn't stop talking. Her spit actually landed in my bowl of grits.

I stared at the food, feeling a wave of pure disgust. I didn't just hate the mess; I hated the woman sitting across from me.

In my past life, she used this exact same broken record. She whispered in my ear about how much Uncle Terrence loved me and how a missing kidney wouldn't change my life.

I was young and desperate for her love, so I agreed. That one choice turned my life into a decades-long tragedy.

I grew up in a dying coal town in the mountains, a place where hope went to die. My father, Hank, worked double shifts at the mill until his bones creaked.

My Nana never sat down, spending her days sewing piecework for pennies just to keep us afloat. My older brother, Silas, even dropped out of school to work the fields.

Despite all that effort, we were the poorest family in the county. I was sixteen years old and could count the number of times I'd eaten a real steak on one hand.

All because my mother was a parasitic enabler for her brother. In her mind, Terrence's family was struggling, and we had to starve so they could feast.

"Ruby, honey, I know you want to do the right thing," she said, reaching out to stroke my hair. "After the surgery, I'll make you a big pot of beef stew with all the trimmings."

She kissed my forehead with a tenderness she usually reserved only for Terrence's daughter, Mabel. It was a calculated bribe, and the old me would have fallen for it.

In that past life, I let her manipulate me into signing the donor papers. Two months later, they wheeled me into an OR and cut a piece of me out.

"Mom, the tests showed that both you and Mabel were matches too," I said, my voice cold. "Why didn't either of you step up?"

She flinched, her eyes darting around the kitchen. She wasn't used to me talking back, but she recovered quickly.

"I'm nearly fifty, Ruby. My health isn't what it used to be. If I went under the knife, I might never wake up. You wouldn't want to lose your mother, would you?"

She didn't wait for an answer before moving on to her favorite subject. "And Mabel... she lost her mother when she was just a baby. I couldn't bear to see her suffer."

"You've always been the strong one, Ruby. A young, healthy girl like you will bounce back in no time. I've asked around―you only need one kidney to live a perfectly normal life."

"I promise, once it's over, I'll stay by your side and nurse you back to health personally," she cooed.

I had been raised by Nana while Cynthia spent all her time at Terrence's house, playing surrogate mother to Mabel. I was starved for her attention.

That promise of personal care was the bait that hooked me last time. But I remembered the reality of that surgery.

After the operation, she spent every waking second fussing over Uncle Terrence. I couldn't even get a glass of water when my throat felt like it was filled with glass.

When we were discharged, she was worried the car ride would hurt Terrence's incision. She made him lie down in the back of Dad's old truck.

Then, she forced me―fresh out of major surgery―to walk three miles home on a dirt road. I developed chronic pain that never left me. Every step I took for the rest of my life was a reminder of her betrayal.

Thinking about it made my blood boil. I slammed my fork onto the table, the clatter echoing through the small kitchen.