Chapter 3

After that, I was bedridden, kept alive by machines, just watching the countdown to my own death.

When my doctor told me there was finally a donor for me, I was completely numb. I couldn't believe such an incredible stroke of luck would actually hit me out of nowhere.

In just a few days, once everything was set up, the doctors wheeled me straight into the operating room.

By then, I was already in pretty bad shape.

Liam hadn't shown up since the day I told him to get lost, but in my daze, I thought I'd seen him.

I thought even if he did show up now, it'd only be to check if I was dead and see if he could claim my corneas.

There was no way in hell I'd give him my corneas. A faint smile tugged at my lips as everything faded to black.

Luckily, I woke up again.

This was my second chance at life. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Once I was sure my body had recovered, I made a point to visit the orphanage where I used to live.

After I turned eighteen, I hadn't gone back in ages. I just couldn't face the broken person I used to be.

But after coming so close to death, I'd learned to let go. Being alive was enough for me now.

What caught me off guard was running into Chloe here. She seemed to know the director of the orphanage pretty well.

I waited until she left before heading over.

I tried to sound casual as I asked the director what Chloe was doing there.

The director just smiled and said Chloe had been helping out the orphanage for years. She'd only dropped by today to take a look around.

I honestly had no clue what her connection to the orphanage was. I'd never felt much attachment to the place myself, so the director didn't say much more. I sat for a while before heading out.

As I was leaving, the director looked like she wanted to say something but held back, quickly composing herself before I could ask about it.

It seemed to me that everyone was acting strange.

But no matter what everyone did, I just wanted to live my own life.

However, every night, I kept dreaming about Liam asking repeatedly, "Where's the heart? Where's the heart?"

Just when I'd finally managed to calm my heart down, it would start racing again. Even though he was out of my life, he just wouldn't let me go, not even in my dreams.

Half a month of nonstop nightmares had me at my wit's end, so I just went straight to psych.

The doctor said I was way too stressed and told me to chill out. He loaded me up with meds, but none of it really helped.

Waking up in a cold sweat again, I sat up in bed, staring blankly at the date for what felt like forever before I finally dragged myself out of bed. Today, I was heading to the cemetery to visit my parents.

I wasn't always an orphan. I once had a warm, loving home, with parents who truly cared about me.

But after a car accident, I lost not only the shelter and love of my parents, but even my home.

I was only about two or three back then, too young to understand anything. All I could do was cry for my mom, surrounded by strangers I didn't know.

They told me they were my relatives, promising that if I went to sleep, I'd see my parents when I woke up. I let them lull me to sleep, but when I opened my eyes the next morning, I found myself at the entrance of a rundown orphanage.

Everything was unfamiliar, the people, the place. I didn't know anything or anyone, and that was how I ended up staying at the orphanage.

It wasn't until I overheard the other kids talking that I realized everyone here was an orphan. That just made me cry even harder. I had parents.

The director, out of options, finally took me to my parents' graves. Their photos showed them smiling gently at me, but their smiles were frozen in the monochrome pictures.

As I left, I kept glancing back. After that, I never cried again. Whenever someone tried to bully me, I'd fight back wildly.

I ended up being the kid who always caused trouble for the teachers. Maybe that was why I never really felt much for the orphanage, and I didn't really connect with the other kids either.

The only friend I ever made was a boy who showed up after I did. When he got bullied, I had his back. But before long, he was gone too.

The people who came to pick him up looked loaded. They brought us all kinds of cool toys and snacks. Before he left, he handed me the whistle he always carried with him.

I'd kept that whistle with me all these years. I had no idea how he was doing now.

It took two hours to get to the cemetery across the city. I always thought that once I had a steady job and some money, I'd get them a nicer grave. But before I started working, I ended up in the hospital.

Looking back, if it weren't for Liam, I probably wouldn't have stood a chance since I was penniless. It was thanks to his money that I was still alive, but that didn't erase all the pain he had caused me.

Their photos on the tombstone still showed my parents' bright, happy smiles. It was probably better they never knew what their daughter had gone through. Otherwise, they'd just worry about me.

I didn't really know what to say, so I just said whatever came to mind. When I got tired, I'd look up at the sky. That was enough for me.

I sat there most of the day, and when I started to feel restless, I finally headed back. Halfway out of the cemetery, I couldn't help but look back.