Chapter 1

After three years of waiting, I had finally found a matching cornea donor for my right eye.

I had already changed into the hospital gown and was about to be wheeled into the operating room when my fiancé Lucas Grant, the lead surgeon, suddenly called off the procedure. He ordered the cornea to be urgently reassigned to another patient.

I slowly walked out of the room, steadying myself against the wall. At the end of the hallway, I saw Lucas shielding Eva Lane, my cousin, in his arms.

Eva had on a pair of sunglasses, her sobs so intense she could barely catch her breath.

"Lucas, the National Dance Championship is in two days," she said. "My eyes can't have a single scratch. Otherwise, how am I supposed to face the judges?"

"Don't be afraid. With me here, nothing will happen to your eyes," Lucas whispered, comforting her.

When he turned and saw me, a flicker of impatience crossed his face, but his voice stayed calm and gentle. "Charlotte, Eva's cornea got scratched by a prop glass during rehearsal.

"She's only twenty, and tomorrow could change everything for her.

"Your right eye has been blind for three years now. You're already used to living in the dark.

"You're tough, so another three years won't be too hard for you, right? Would you mind letting Eva go first this time?"

But if I didn't get treatment for my right eye, my left eye would go blind too.

I didn't question Lucas. I simply turned away and said softly, "Okay, she can have it."

Feeling my way, I reached the nurses' station and asked for a Voluntary Transplant Waiver Form.

The tip of my pen scratched softly across the paper as I signed my name.

The nurse beside me gave me a sympathetic look. But after I signed, she still collected the form by the book, turned, and walked away.

Lucas stood beside me, his tense shoulders finally relaxing as he let out a sigh of relief.

A cold breeze swept through the hallway, and I instinctively hunched my shoulders.

Lucas immediately took off his white coat and draped it over my shoulders.

Then he took a bottle of heated low-fat milk from the insulated cabinet at the nurses' station, twisted off the cap, and pressed it into my hand.

"Charlotte, I knew you'd always put others first," Lucas said gently, looking down at me. "Don't worry. I've already called the eye bank again. The next cornea is reserved for you.

"You're tough. You've endured three years of being blind already. Waiting a few more months will be a breeze for you."

I held the warm milk bottle, saying nothing.

The sound of a wheelchair rolling came from the other end of the hallway. Eva was pushed over to us by a caregiver.

One of her eyes was covered with thick bandages, and she leaned back in the wheelchair, looking weak and helpless.

"Charlotte, I'm sorry." Eva sniffled, tears falling from her good eye. "If I didn't have to compete in the National Dance Championship in two days, I would never have used your cornea."

She reached out and tugged at Lucas's coat, sounding more aggrieved. "Your job is simultaneous interpretation. You're always in the booth, and you don't need to be seen. Even if you only have one good eye, you can still work.

"But I'm a dancer. I want to perform on bigger stages in the future. My eyes can't have a single flaw."

Lucas gently took her wrist, his voice soft and reassuring. "Don't worry, I'll make sure there's not a single scar on your eyes. Just concentrate on your competition."

I watched their hands entwined, and my mind drifted back over the past three years, the years where my world was never fully light nor fully dark, always incomplete.

I was deeply afraid of the darkness, but I could vividly remember that stormy night two years ago when the power went out.

Back then, Lucas had pulled me tightly into his arms, gently stroking my hair as he whispered, "Charlotte, don't be scared. From now on, I'll be your light. I'll stay by your side, always."

But today, he personally handed over the cornea that was meant for me, the one I was about to receive in surgery, to someone else.

Because I was strong and I'd gotten used to living half-blind, all my years of waiting were reduced to nothing.

His logic and power always went to those who knew how to cry and play the victim.

In that moment, my heart felt hollow. I didn't have the energy to fight or ask why.

I drank the warm milk in silence, tossed the empty bottle in the trash, then slipped off Lucas's white coat and handed it back to him.

"Hope your surgery goes well," I said as I turned and walked toward the elevator.