Silence.
I could hear him breathing on the other end. Slow. Careful.
Then he said quietly, “Lesley… we already owe her a lot. I don’t want to pressure her. She’s helping you. We should be grateful.”
Something snapped in my chest. “Owe her? One hundred million isn’t enough? Or is there something else you owe her?”
He didn’t answer. Then I heard her voice behind him. Soft. Sweet. Fake as hell.
“Fredrinn, I burned my hand! Ow!" she said, dragging the words. “It hurts. Come here! Please!"
His tone changed instantly. “I’ll call you later,” he said fast. “She needs me.”
Then the call ended.
Just like that.
I stared at my phone until it went black. It felt like something inside me finally caved in. Like I’d been hollowed out and there was nothing left to protect.
I turned my head and looked at the doctor.
“How long,” I asked, barely louder than air, “if I don’t get the transplant?”
He sighed. Didn’t even try to sugarcoat it.
“A month. Maybe less. Your body’s getting weaker every day. If the transplant happens soon, there’s a chance. If not—”
“I know,” I said, cutting him off. “It’s fine.”
I looked away.
“I won’t have it.”
I knew my twin too well. She wasn’t going to save me. She was dragging it out on purpose. Every delay meant more time with him. And I was done begging. Done waiting. Done fighting alone.
That evening, I went back to the house.
The sky was gold and orange, quiet and soft, like the world was being kind to me for once. I almost thought maybe this was mercy. Like God giving me one last calm moment before everything ended.
Then I opened the door.
And whatever was left of me broke.
Fredrinn was on the couch when I walked in.
My twin was curled up against him, way too close, feeding him fruit like she owned him. She was smiling, calm, satisfied. Like she’d already won and was just waiting for the prize to stop breathing.
“Lesley!” Fredrinn jumped up fast, like he’d been rehearsing this. His face lit up, guilty and hopeful at the same time. He shoved a small gift box toward me. “I got you something. If you take this, it means you agree. You’ll let me stay with her for a while so she can help you. Just say yes. Please.”
I stared at the box. Didn’t move. Didn’t reach for it.
“I don’t need the gift,” I said. My lips were shaking but I kept my voice flat. “I’ll agree even without it.”
He froze. “You really mean that?”
“Yes,” I said. Each word hurt coming out.