Chapter 1
Mom chucked me into the refugee zone for a decade, all over a plate of pasta. She didn't even lift a finger for ten years.
During that time, she went from being a plain doctor to a big shot rare disease expert.
She saved a gazillion patients and became a legend in the medical field.
But she had no clue that her daughter was suffering from ALS.
Later on, I kicked the bucket on Mother's Day because of respiratory failure.
On that very same day, Mom, who was the top dog in ALS research, dissected a body for a live teaching session.
And guess what?
That body was mine.
After my soul left my body, the first thing I did was to float over to my mom.
Her research institute was just two blocks away from the hospital where I was staying.
But despite the close distance, she never got to see me before I died.
The institute was huge, but I found her right away by instinct.
I hadn't seen my mom, Claire Cooper, in ten years. At that moment, she was in a fit of anger.
The new student misunderstood her preferences and brought her back a plate of pasta.
Claire dumped the pasta into the trash bin, washed her hands, and then took out a photo of my brother to caress.
The photo was taken ten years ago.
Back then, Claire was just an ordinary doctor, but she loved her job so much that she was often too busy to come home.
On the day of the accident, Claire hadn't been home for two days.
I was five years old. After the mixing formula for my one-year-old brother, I dragged a stool over to the stove and made myself a plate of pasta.
It was terrible.
The pasta was undercooked, clumped together, hot on the outside but still cold in the middle.
But I was so hungry that I ate it all up.
I didn't notice my brother climbing onto the stool.
With a thud, he fell.
I quickly threw down my plate and called my mom, but before I could say anything, she shouted, "Sophie, how many times have I told you not to call me while I'm at work? You're disrupting me from saving lives. Do you have any idea?"
She hung up the phone. When I tried to call again, she just wouldn't answer.
Claire locked the door to our home from the outside, and I couldn't get out to get help. All I could do was find a towel and press it tightly against the back of my brother's bleeding head.
In the middle of the night, my mom finally came home.
But my brother was already dead in my arms.
Claire blamed me for not watching my brother properly. Her slaps rained down on my face like hail.
"Sophie, you murderer. If you hadn't insisted on making pasta by dragging a stool over, you wouldn't have killed your brother," she screamed.
My face was swollen, and two of my teeth were knocked out.
But Claire still wasn't satisfied.
In the dead of winter, she locked me out on the drafty balcony. If it hadn't been for a neighbor secretly tossing me a thick blanket, I would have frozen to death.
Later, my dad, Nicholas Sanders, came back. Instead of blaming me, he scolded my mom for being a workaholic and forced her to get a divorce that very day.
In a fit of anger, Claire dumped me off with my grandma in the refugee zone and didn't care about me for ten years. She wouldn't even answer my calls.
So, she had no idea that I had ALS.
She had no idea that I was already dead and that my soul was right beside her.
Suddenly, I heard my attending physician calling my name.
In an instant, my soul was summoned back to the hospital.
Cinderella Shaw was gently caressing the cheek of my lifeless body, choking out an apology. "I'm so sorry, Sophie. I still couldn't save you."
I rushed over, desperate to wipe away his tears, but my hand couldn't touch his cheek.
A year ago, I had already lost my ability to swallow.
It was my aunt, Margaret Watts, who had the doctors insert a feeding tube into my stomach, pumping in various mushes every day, which barely kept me alive.
If it hadn't been for Cinderella finding me during a charity clinic and kindly bringing me to the big city hospital, I would have died long ago.
Cinderella was still sobbing, "Sophie, the research institute has decided to use your body for a live teaching session. Dr. Cooper will personally dissect you. Sophie, today is Mother's Day. You'll finally get to see your mom. Are you happy?"
A wave of sorrow washed over me.
My mom was about to dissect me.
But after ten years apart, would she even recognize me?