Chapter 3

David's breathing started to quicken, and the monitor blared an alarm. His heart rate spiked to 140 in a flash.

"Nurse, nurse!" Mary cried out in terror.

But I stayed put, leaning over and whispering in David's ear, making sure only he could hear, "Guess what? Would your precious Serena, the one who prays for you, get on the operating table, let them cut her open, and give you half her liver?"

David's pupils constricted in an instant.

I watched his face contort with fear and anger, smiled slightly, stood up, and headed for the door.

"Nina, stop right there!" Mary shouted behind me. "If you dare walk out that door, you'll never be welcome in the Carter family again!"

I paused and turned back to look at her.

"Mrs. Carter," I said with a smile, "do you think I still want to?"

With that, I pulled open the door and walked out of the hospital room, barefoot.

Behind me, David's hysterical shouts, Serena's tearful explanations, Mary's furious curses, and the nurses' startled cries filled the air.

But none of it mattered to me anymore.

The cold wind in the hallway swept over me again, and for the first time, I felt truly liberated.

I had already made my first move.

And this was only the beginning.

David, Serena.

Everything you owed me in my previous life—this time, I would make you pay it all back, with interest.

As I reached the nurse's station, Michael hurried over. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me standing barefoot in the hallway, looking surprised.

He said, "Ms. Moore, you..."

"Mr. Grant," I cut him off calmly, "I'm calling off the liver donation surgery. Could you help me with the discharge paperwork?"

"But what about Mr. Carter?" he asked.

"His liver issue," I replied with a smile, "will be handled by someone much more appropriate."

Michael gave me a complicated look, but finally nodded. "I understand. Let's get that needle mark on your hand taken care of. Please follow me."

I followed Michael down the hall; before leaving, I cast one last look back at the third VIP room.

The door was left slightly ajar, and I could make out frantic figures scrambling inside.

David, savor these last moments of good health while you still can.

After all, your perfect match liver donor was probably already plotting how to get as far away from you as possible.

I tore my gaze away and headed toward the treatment room, my steps light and unburdened.

It felt pretty damn good on my first day back.

Serena, it was your turn.

After Michael patched up the IV mark on my hand, I slipped into my own clothes and walked out of the hospital.

The late autumn wind whipped at my collar, but I didn't feel cold at all—only the heat of blood pulsing through my veins.

My phone kept buzzing in my pocket.

I didn't need to look to know who it was.

I made my way to the bus stop in front of the hospital, picked a bench, and settled in. It was only then, unhurried and calm, that I took out my phone.

The screen showed a stack of missed calls.

David (13 missed calls)

Mary (8 missed calls)

Serena (5 missed calls)

There were a dozen or so messages, mostly from David. They started with [Nina, stop messing around and come back,] then escalated to [Nina, pick up the damn phone,] and the last one, sent five minutes ago, was: [I'm begging you, please pick up, okay?]

I chuckled and, without a second thought, changed his contact name from David to Liver Failure Guy.

Then I opened up my Instagram.

Just as I expected, Serena had posted something three minutes ago: [Some people pretend to be all kind and selfless, but when it really counts, they break their promises and watch as someone's life fades away right in front of them.

[If you really love someone, you prove it with actions, not talk.]

The photo showed her holding David's hand in his hospital bed, the angle perfectly capturing his pale face and her tear-streaked profile—painting a picture of heartbreak and devotion.

There were already a bunch of comments from our mutual friends.

[Serena, what happened? Who broke their promise?]

[Did something happen with David's illness? Didn't Nina say she'd donate her liver?]

[Sending hugs, Serena. You're always so sweet; don't waste your tears on someone who isn't worth it.]

I gave it a like.

Then I grabbed a screenshot and saved it for later.

Next, I dug up a number from my contacts that I hadn't touched in forever.

Alex Turner was my best friend back in college. He started to distance himself from me, and he couldn't stand David's behavior. In my previous life, after I donated my liver and was hospitalized, he was the only one who visited me three times.

Each time, he always seemed like he had something to say, but never managed to get it out. The last missed call on my phone before I died was from him.

The phone rang twice before he picked up.

"Nina?" Alex said. He sounded both surprised and worried. "Are you okay? I heard about David's illness—"

"I'm fine," I cut him off, keeping my voice steady. "Alex, I need a favor."

"Tell me," Alex replied.

I said, "I remember your cousin works at Harmony Medical Center. Can you help me check someone's compatibility records? I need it as soon as possible, preferably today."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"Whose?" Alex asked.

"Serena. She had a liver compatibility test with David at Central City Hospital a week ago. The results came back as a perfect match—all ten markers lined up. Nobody else knows about this except the doctor and me," I replied.

Alex sucked in a sharp breath. "So you're saying she was a perfect match, kept it hidden from everyone, and let you go ahead and donate your liver?"

"Bingo," I said with a smile.

"Damn!" Alex cursed. It was rare for him. "That woman is seriously twisted. Wait, I'll call my cousin right now. You'll have an answer by this afternoon."

"Thanks, Alex," I added.

"Nina," Alex hesitated, his voice heavy. "So you're really not going through with the liver donation?"

"I'm not," I replied, watching the traffic flow by. "Alex, was I really that naive before?"

There was a long silence on the other end.

"You weren't stupid," Alex finally said. "You were too kind, so kind you thought everyone else had a heart like yours."

After hanging up, I put my phone away and hopped on the bus home.

My apartment was bought after David and I got engaged. My family covered sixty percent of the down payment, but I ended up shouldering the entire mortgage alone.

David always claimed he needed to keep his money for his startup. He said he'd buy me a villa once his company made it big.

In my previous life, I believed him.

Now, standing in this stylish yet empty apartment, all I could feel was the sting of irony.