Chapter 3
Nora knew better than anyone how powerful the Powell family was in this city.
"So, what are you going to do?" Nora asked me.
I didn't answer right away.
Last time around, I had no way out. That was why I died.
This time around, I was still not sure.
But getting a second shot at life gave me some information.
I knew what was going to happen in the next forty days.
I knew what Oscar would do, what Georgia would say, and how Milena would try to force me.
I'd seen everyone's hand.
"Nora, do you know anyone in the liver surgery department at St. Johnson Hospital?" I asked.
Nora froze for a second and then slowly sat back down on her stool.
"Yeah, I do. The main surgeon, Kelvin Lester, was in the same class as my mentor. What's up?" she replied.
"I need to meet him," I said.
"Why?" she asked.
I looked at her. "I need a fake notice saying the patient's in critical condition after surgery."
Nora's fingers clenched the fabric of her nurse's uniform on her lap.
She didn't immediately agree or refuse.
She stared at me, her brow knitting tighter and tighter. "Jennifer, what are you trying to do?"
"I want Oscar to believe I'm dead," I said.
The next day, Matthew showed up again.
This time, he wasn't alone.
He had Oscar's mother, Milena, with him.
Milena was sixty, but she was impeccably maintained. She wore a dark green dress, and diamond earrings dangled from her ears.
When she walked in, I was eating an orange that Nora had brought me yesterday.
"Jennifer," Milena said.
She called me Jennifer, as she did before.
Every time she said that name, I knew nothing good was coming my way.
She would say, "Jennifer, Georgia's not in good health. You need to be more understanding.
"Jennifer, Oscar's always had feelings for Georgia. You've known that all along.
"Jennifer, you need to be sensible."
"Milena," I said, setting the orange down.
Milena sat down beside my bed and reached out to take my hand.
Her hand was cold, her nails neatly rounded.
"I know Oscar messed up this time. He shouldn't have sent Matthew to talk to you. He should've come himself," she said.
I didn't say anything.
"But Jennifer, Georgia's situation can't wait. You're the only one in the country who's a match," Milena said.
"There's the other match overseas," I replied.
"We can't get in touch with them," she answered.
"Not being able to reach them doesn't mean they don't exist," I said.
Milena's smile faltered for a moment.
She glanced at me, a barely noticeable glint in her eyes.
She said gently, "Jennifer, let me speak from the heart.
"You and Oscar have been married for three years. I know you've had to put up with a lot. I've seen everything.
"But if Georgia doesn't make it, Oscar will never recover. And if he's not okay, things will get tougher for you.
"Saving Georgia is the same as saving this family.
"I promise, after the surgery, whatever you want, I'll make sure you get it."
I lowered my gaze to her hand wrapped around mine.
She held my hand the same way back then.
She used the same lines.
She promised me anything I wanted after the surgery.
But what did she give me back then?
She handed me a memorial tag for my ashes.
It read: [Jennifer Hampton, aged twenty-six.]
"Milena," I said. "I want to get a full check-up first. If everything looks good, I'll sign it."
Milena broke into a smile right away.
She gave my hand a gentle pat. "Alright. I'll have Matthew set it up for you."
She stood up, and as she reached the door, she glanced back at me. "Jennifer, you're such a good kid."
The door closed.
I clenched the orange in my hand, my nails digging into the peel, juice trickling down my fingers.
She said I was a good kid.
How ironic.
Back then, I was that good kid, too.
So, when they killed me, it felt perfectly justified to them.
The check-up was scheduled for the third day.
Nora had helped me get in touch with Kelvin ahead of time.
Kelvin was in his early forties, not much of a talker. The first thing he said when we met was, "You're the one from the Powell family?"
"Yeah," I replied.
"Your friend filled me in," Kelvin said as he closed the door and took a seat. "So, you want a fake notice saying you're in critical condition?"
"It's not just the critical condition notice," I said.
"Go on," Kelvin said.
"I need to fake signing the consent form. Then, during the surgery, an accident happens. Massive bleeding, and they try to save me, but it doesn't work," I explained.
Kelvin stared at me for a long moment, saying nothing.
"Do you realize what you're saying?" he finally asked.
"I do," I replied.
"If the Powell family digs into it and finds out the surgery was fake..." Kelvin said.
"They won't," I said, meeting his gaze. "Because the surgery is real."