And saw my parents in the car.
They were dressed impeccably—expensive, polished, dripping with luxury.
In the backseat sat a bald little girl with a pale, sickly face.
Her eyes sparkled as she clutched a cake.
A cake that cost over four hundred dollars.
In that moment, the world inside the car and the world outside it felt like two different planets.
Without thinking, I stepped aside to let them pass.
The security guard's voice drifted to my ears, reverent and envious.
"Director Swanson and Director James are really something—wealthy and generous. I heard this is the nineteenth patient they've sponsored."
"Can you imagine how lucky their kids must be?"
Lucky to be their child?
I caught my reflection in the glass—gaunt, colorless, hollow.
A bitter smirk twisted my lips as I turned and walked away.
Thirty hours.
I scraped together fifty-five thousand dollars like my life depended on it.
Because it did.
The moment I handed over the payment at the hospital, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. My vision went black, and I nearly collapsed right there.
I had just turned to leave when someone grabbed the back of my head and slammed my face into the glass of the payment window.
"So you're the one who stole my daughter's kidney!"
"You piece of garbage! Give it back!"
My skull pressed against the cold glass, my ears ringing.
A rough, foul-smelling hand clamped over my face.
The man's eyes were bloodshot, his teeth bared like he wanted to tear me apart.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a girl—seventeen, maybe eighteen—being clutched tightly by a sobbing middle-aged woman.
"Everyone, look at this!"
The woman's voice rose to a shriek.
"This is the girl who stole the kidney we waited a whole year for—"
"If Director Swanson and Director James hadn't called to warn us, we'd have been completely fooled."
"My poor daughter has been on dialysis for a year now. Her father and I—our hearts are breaking..."
The woman's wailing drew a crowd of passing patients.
Their fury found a target. Pill bottles, medical supplies—whatever they held—came flying at me.
"I hate people like you who cut in line!"
"We're all sick here! What makes you so special?!"
All the fear and tension that had been festering in these hospital corridors suddenly found its outlet.
I was shoved to the ground. Fists and feet rained down.
I curled tight, arms locked around my head, absorbing every blow.