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The lights in the operating room went out, but my consciousness floated above, watching as my fiancé, Matthew Lane, held his lifesaver, Yvonne Shaw, in his arms. Softly, he discussed donating my corneas to Yvonne after my death. Matthew said, "It's what Samantha owes you. If she hadn't stolen the credit for saving me all those years ago, we'd have been together long ago." My heart shattered. It wasn't Yvonne who had dug him out of the wreckage with my bare hands, shielding him from the steel rebar. It was me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that night Matthew, now successful, was about to announce our breakup at his celebration.