"Her sister was a failed experiment in hardship education. But Penelope? She's been obedient since birth."
"At three years old, she already knew how to read a room. She helped with all the housework."
"When she got her first period at twelve, she secretly used toilet paper for a whole year because she didn't want to waste our money."
"Yes, she has kidney failure. But the excellent qualities we deliberately cultivated in her have kept her going on her own."
My mother paused, her tone turning dismissive.
"Besides, if she passes our little test successfully..."
"What awaits her is wealth beyond anything ordinary people can imagine."
"So to avoid gossip, let her wait a bit longer."
"It's not like kidney failure actually kills anyone..."
With those airy words, she overrode Dr. Chavez's objections and replaced my name with someone else's.
In that instant, my body turned to stone.
Trembling, I remembered every moment of suffering from these past three years.
Hauling three bags of rice up seven flights of stairs for a few extra dollars in tips.
Sprinting up fifteen floors in under a minute to avoid late-delivery penalties, the taste of blood coating my throat.
Countless agonies.
All of them flooded back at once.
My stomach heaved. I clamped both hands over my mouth—and saw my arms. The arms riddled with dialysis scars.
Tears splattered against the floor.
My phone buzzed.
A text: Your kidney transplant surgery has been canceled.
And right after it—a new delivery order.
From this very hospital.
My parents had ordered a three-thousand-dollar luxury cake.
For a stranger's birthday party.
The notes section listed hundreds of words of instructions.
Yet they'd forgotten—today was also my birthday.
The absurdity and irony consumed me whole.
I couldn't hold back anymore. I shoved the door open and screamed.
"How dare you give my kidney to someone else?!"
"I waited three years in that queue!"
"You have no right to do this!"
I fought to control the trembling that came with my rage.
I rushed forward and snatched the consent form from my mother's hands, tearing it to shreds.
"Penelope, what are you doing here?!" She didn't even flinch. "Shouldn't you be out delivering food right now?"
"Don't tell me you're slacking off over a little illness?"
"Did everything we taught you go in one ear and out the other?!"
My mother's brows knitted together.
She didn't address my accusation. Not a flicker of panic at being caught.