"Was I living well at home before? You were always 'busy with work.' I grew up on frozen dinners and instant noodles. I haven't had a decent meal from you in years. Why do you suddenly care now?"
Their faces flushed crimson. Not anger this time—shame. The memories of their neglect seemed to hit them all at once.
Mom opened her mouth, but no words came.
"If you really want to do something for me," I said, voice cold as ice, "then leave. Don't show your faces here again."
I gripped the door handle, knuckles white. "Because right now, looking at you makes me physically ill."
I slammed the door.
Under the dim streetlights, their shadows stretched long and thin, looking small and pathetic. But I refused to look back.
Not long after, I saw Mom on the local news.
Max, the poor student who received the heart meant for me, was on screen. He choked up, thanking Mom and calling her his "second mother."
On screen, Mom wiped a tear from her eye. "It is simply a doctor's duty," she said humbly.
General Hospital's reputation soared. Mom's professional ranking climbed another level. She was a hero.
She had gotten what she wanted. I assumed I was of no further use to her.
Then my phone buzzed.
Sam, the hospital has arranged a slot for your surgery. Don't be afraid. This time, Mom will definitely save you.
The paperwork looked legitimate. Every stamp crisp, every signature in place. Director Hammond had even called personally, claiming my mother pulled every string to secure this slot.
I debated it for a long time. In the end, I decided to go. I wasn't gambling with my life out of spite. This surgery was what I deserved—what I was owed.
But when I walked into the inpatient ward, no surgeon waited for me.
Instead, I found the people I loathed most in this world.
Max Dickerson and his mother.
I shot a sharp look at Dad.
He wouldn't meet my eyes. Stared at the floor, guilt radiating off him, yet his grip on my arm was iron-tight as he yanked me into a chair.
"Max feels terrible," he muttered. "He wanted to apologize personally. And... if your mother hadn't set this up, we knew you wouldn't come back."
The room went cold. My throat constricted.
"So the surgery was a lie?" I rasped. "Your ultimate goal was to ambush me with this charity case?"
Max stood up to play peacemaker.
"Sam, Dr. Henson saved me, but I know it hurt you. It's not her fault—it's mine. I'm so sorry."