Chapter 1Two Organ Donations, Two Broken Sisters

They called Kate an angel. When I, the long-lost heir, was dying, she saved me. No one knew she’d signed the organ donation papers. The surgery worked; I lived. But Kate was destroyed. Complications and depression consumed her, and she withered away.

The house grew cold. Mother wept constantly; Father’s sighs deepened. I became the unwelcome ghost in the Harrington estate, my survival a glaring accusation. Then I heard Father’s choked confession: "We saved Sierra, but it cost Kate everything. What is the point of Sierra even being alive?"

Paul’s icy glare cut deeper. "Don't touch her. How dare you stand in the same room as Kate?"

I opened my desk drawer. There lay the proof: Kate’s donation agreement, and the blank form I had prepared for myself. I once thought giving it back would be enough. Now I understood. A soul saved by an angel doesn't deserve the sun. Every breath I took stole the light from her.

This family needed Kate. They never needed me. I shut the drawer—and with it, the door to my heart they never truly opened.

* * *

I never realized the hallways of a hospital could feel this freezing.

The corridor stretched out long and empty. The harsh, sterile lights illuminated every corner, leaving nowhere to hide.

I gripped the organ donation form, my knuckles turning a pale, translucent white.

"Sierra Harrington?" the nurse's voice crackled through the intercom, utterly devoid of emotion.

I stood up. The few steps to the consultation room felt like walking barefoot on shattered glass.

The doctor was a middle-aged man with kind, tired eyes. He took the paperwork, scanned it, and looked up at me. "Your condition has progressed this far? It is a tragedy. You young people never take care of yourselves. A few more routine checkups and we could have caught this early."

"Doctor, I need to ask about the donation process."

My voice was terrifyingly calm. "I want to donate after I pass. Everything that is viable. I want it all to go to her."

His gaze sharpened instantly. "To who?"

"Kate Harrington."

The name left a bitter taste on my tongue.

He flipped through the forms, his frown deepening. "A relative? Then why aren't your family members here to co-sign? We need informed consent from next of kin."

"I don't have any family."

The words scraped against my throat like razor blades. "I am an orphan."

I quickly added another lie. "I am not biologically related to her. I just heard she was very sick."

The doctor stared at me for a long time. The silence stretched so thin I thought he was going to flat-out refuse.

Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, pulled a pen from his pocket, and tapped a line on the consent form. "You will need to sign here. And initial these risk disclosure pages."

I took the pen. When the ink met the paper, my hand did not shake at all.

"Given your current vitals, if you opted for the surgical intervention, there might still be a glimmer of hope," he offered softly, seemingly unable to watch a young life extinguish itself without a fight.

"A glimmer of hope?" I whispered.

I wondered if this was a test from God.

If a surgery succeeded, I could forget the past, take my father's money, leave the Harrington family behind, and start over in some quiet town.

But if it failed, I would give every piece of myself to Kate. They all said I owed her my life. It was time to pay my debts.