Chapter 4

My phone rang again. This time, it was Mary.

I picked up and hit the record button.

"Nina, you finally answered!" Mary shouted. Her sharp voice nearly pierced my eardrums. "I'm telling you, get back to the hospital right now! Otherwise, you can forget about ever coming into our family for the rest of your life."

"Mrs. Carter," I said, lounging on the couch, my tone relaxed, "you already said that this morning. And I already told you. I have no interest in coming into your family."

"You!" Mary was so furious she was almost speechless, but then she switched gears, putting on a fake sobbing act.

"Nina, I was too anxious earlier and said some harsh things. Don't take it to heart, okay? You and David have been together for so many years; you can't throw all that away over a moment of anger, right?

"David was literally in tears now. He said he knows he messed up and shouldn't have brought up Serena in front of you. But you know how soft-hearted he is; Serena came over bawling her eyes out. How could he possibly kick her out?

"And as for the whole liver donation thing, I know David really wronged you, but our family will remember what you've done. When you and David get married, we'll put all the family assets in your name. I'll treat you like my own daughter, okay?"

I laughed at those promises—heard them all before in my previous life.

"Mrs. Carter, that sounds sweet," I said, "but I don't buy it anymore."

"You—" Mary was fuming, lost for words.

"And," I cut her off, "since you care so much about David, why not ask Serena? She's a perfect ten-point match—much better than me.

"If she donates her liver, David will recover faster, and the risk of rejection will be much lower. That's what a real perfect match looks like."

Mary was practically hyperventilating on the other end.

"I-is that true?" she stammered.

"Central City Hospital, Liver Surgery, Dr. Grant. Go check it out yourself," I said lazily. "But Mrs. Carter, you'd better hurry. Serena's probably already figuring out how to get out of town."

I hung up and saved the recording.

Then I ordered the delivery of some spicy food and a few beers.

In my previous life, I gave up spicy food and booze to take care of David. I spent every day digging up liver-friendly recipes, but after the transplant, I was too scared to eat anything myself.

Now?

To hell with all that health nonsense.

I was going to live like a real human being.

Alex called at three o'clock sharp.

"I found out," he said, his voice simmering with anger. "Serena got tested a week ago. She's a perfect ten-point match.

"The report was ready yesterday, but she didn't pick it up. When the hospital called her, she said, 'You must have made a mistake. I don't need it.'"

"And," Alex paused, "she explicitly told the doctor not to share the results with anyone, especially David's family."

"Clever," I said, eating my food, my hands dripping with oil. "She gets to play the saint for love, doesn't have to actually donate her liver, and gets to watch me stupidly give up half of mine. She gets everything she wants, all at once."

"That woman is seriously scary," Alex sounded grim. "Nina, what are you planning to do?"

"What am I going to do?" I took a swig of beer, feeling the cold slide down my throat. "Obviously, I'm going to make sure everyone hears about her so-called selfless act."

After hanging up with Alex, I logged into my old Twitter account that had been gathering dust for ages.

I scrolled through the list of drama-loving fake friends that both David and Serena followed—most of them were gossip queens pretending to be close.

Then I made a burner account and sent a DM to the biggest gossip-spreader of them all, the so-called fashion blogger Lillian Geller.

[Hot gossip! The cancer patient's secret soulmate is actually a perfect liver match, but she kept it hidden and let the official girlfriend go under the knife instead! Receipts attached.]

I included the screenshot of the matching report Alex sent me with all the key info blurred out, plus a shot of Serena's latest social media post.

I sent it all.

With that done, I switched off my phone and gave my full attention to the food.

By the time I cracked open my third beer, someone started banging on the door.

No, scratch that—it sounded like they were trying to break it down.

Someone shouted, "Nina, open up. I know you're in there!"

It was David; his voice was hoarse, furious, and there was a trace of panic he couldn't quite hide.

I glanced at the clock; it was 4 PM.

He showed up earlier than I expected.

Mary must've worked fast.

I took my sweet time wiping my hands, then strolled over to the door and peeked through the peephole.

David was standing there in his hospital gown, a coat thrown haphazardly over it. His face was ghostly pale, sweat beading on his forehead. One hand clutched his abdomen where his liver was, the other was pounding on the door like a madman.

Mary was there, holding him up, and Serena was there, too.

She was still wearing that white dress from this morning, but her makeup was smudged, her eyes red and swollen; she looked like she had been bawling her eyes out.

"Nina! Open up!" David slammed the door again, his voice weak but furious. "Spill it! What's the real deal with Serena's match?"

I curled my lips into a mocking smile and opened the door.