Chapter 1

When I was wheeled into the sterile isolation room, my body ravaged by leukemia, my mother was busy begging her adopted daughter, Natasha, not to donate her bone marrow to me.

On the surface, Natasha pretended to be the bigger person. But right when the chemo had wiped out most of my immune system, she sent me a text:

"I faint at the sight of blood, so I can't do it. Sorry."

"Why don't you just die?"

Later, I did exactly what they wanted. I died.

But my mother went completely insane.

"You’re backing out?!"

"She is in critical condition right now! We can only keep her stable for another two days. Any further delay is a death sentence!"

I forced my eyes open with great effort. Through the glass, I could see my primary physician shouting desperately into his phone.

Don’t bother, I wanted to tell him. They won’t come.

Because today was Natasha’s period.

My mother always said that Natasha had a weak constitution and shouldn't set foot in a depressing place like a hospital.

Especially not for someone as insignificant as me.

The oxygen mask felt freezing cold against my face. I couldn't make a sound.

Yet, a pathetic sliver of hope lingered in my chest. I strained my ears, trying to catch my mother’s voice through the receiver.

Maybe... just maybe, seeing that I was on the brink of death, she would love me for once.

But almost instantly, my mother’s cold, impatient voice shattered my illusion:

"Is this about Audrey again? Are you two ever going to stop?"

"First, she fakes an illness because she wants to ruin Natasha's health with a transplant. Now she’s hiring actors to play doctors?"

"She only has two phone calls left that I'll actually answer this year. Tell her to stop wasting them."

She sounded so eager to hang up, not wanting to give me even a second to respond.

That was when Natasha spoke up.

Her voice had that familiar, sweet, gentle tone, but every word was laced with poison:

"Mom, don’t be mad at Audrey. She’s just... immature."

Hearing her "understanding" adoptive daughter speak, my mother’s anger flared even hotter:

"She's an adult, yet she still reeks of that low-class, trailer-park vibe. And she’s proud of it!"

Her coldness was dripping with disgust. How could a mother speak about her own biological daughter this way?

But then again, this was the same woman who, when I was born, found me too "wrinkly and ugly."

She paid a massive bribe to swap me with a three-month-old baby in the next bassinet.

If she could do that, what else was she not capable of?

Of course, as a ruthless, highly successful corporate CEO, she had left a backdoor open.

If I proved to be exceptional enough upon reaching adulthood, she would acknowledge me as her daughter.

If only... I hadn't gotten sick.

"But Audrey is sick, Mom. If her adoptive mother in that run-down town finds out, she’ll accuse us of abuse again," Natasha said, her voice dropping into a worried, dim tone.

This immediately triggered my mother’s protective instincts.

"Did that trashy woman harass you again?" Eleanor snapped.

"There's a massive flu outbreak in that trashy town right now anyway. If she actually catches it, she’ll be dead soon. Audrey should just hurry up and die too."

When Natasha heard her biological mother’s dire situation, she actually let out a soft, stifled laugh.

Why? Why did a person like her get to be showered with love?

My ragged breaths fogged up the oxygen mask, condensing into cold droplets.

Drip. It fell right onto my chest, which was trembling in agony.