The day I signed my organ donation papers, my family was gathered around my adopted sister, Hailey, holding a cake they'd baked themselves to celebrate the start of her first clinical trial.

I have terminal brain cancer, and my stepsister, Hailey, had stolen my husband Zane's medical credentials.

She'd blackmailed a member of his staff to swap her healthy medical records with my terminal diagnosis, stealing the one spot in an experimental treatment that could have saved my life.

The pain became too much. I swallowed a handful of painkillers, only to overhear the nurses whispering, "It's a good thing Dr. Zane secured that spot for Hailey. They said she only had three days left."

So, in the last 72 hours of my life, I quietly let go of everything.

When I signed away the publishing rights to my novels, my father and brother gave me a satisfied smile.

When Zane handed me the divorce papers and I signed without a moment's hesitation, he sighed and praised me for finally being "so reasonable."

And when I was the one who coaxed our daughter, Olivia, into calling Hailey "Mommy," Olivia gushed that her new mom was the best.

Even when I offered Hailey the seaside villa and all my assets, their expressions softened into something like relief.

"Don't worry," my brother soothed, gesturing toward Hailey. "We're just keeping it safe for now. Once she's gone, it'll all come back to you."

I gave them everything they wanted. So why, when they find out this was all Hailey's vicious lie, do they come crying, saying I'm the one they wanted all along?

The day I signed my organ donation papers, my family was gathered around my adopted sister, Hailey, holding a cake they'd baked themselves to celebrate the start of her first clinical trial.

I have terminal brain cancer, and my stepsister, Hailey, had stolen my husband Zane's medical credentials.

She'd blackmailed a member of his staff to swap her healthy medical records with my terminal diagnosis, stealing the one spot in an experimental treatment that could have saved my life.

The pain became too much. I swallowed a handful of painkillers, only to overhear the nurses whispering, "It's a good thing Dr. Zane secured that spot for Hailey. They said she only had three days left."

So, in the last 72 hours of my life, I quietly let go of everything.

When I signed away the publishing rights to my novels, my father and brother gave me a satisfied smile.

When Zane handed me the divorce papers and I signed without a moment's hesitation, he sighed and praised me for finally being "so reasonable."

And when I was the one who coaxed our daughter, Olivia, into calling Hailey "Mommy," Olivia gushed that her new mom was the best.

Even when I offered Hailey the seaside villa and all my assets, their expressions softened into something like relief.

"Don't worry," my brother soothed, gesturing toward Hailey. "We're just keeping it safe for now. Once she's gone, it'll all come back to you."

I gave them everything they wanted. So why, when they find out this was all Hailey's vicious lie, do they come crying, saying I'm the one they wanted all along?

...

My body was tearing itself apart, the pain a phantom ache that was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

With trembling hands, I fished out the last of my painkillers from my purse.

Three days to live. Good. This should be just enough.

The pill dissolved under my tongue, granting me a sliver of strength. I called a cab to the seaside villa.

The moment I pushed open the door, I froze. Hailey was lying on the white sofa in the living room. My father was sitting beside her, peeling an apple, while my brother fluffed her pillow.

I stood at the threshold, suddenly aware of how out of place I was.

Just then, my phone rang. It was the donation center, calling to confirm the arrangements. Zane overheard and his brow furrowed. "Organ donation? Who for?"

I managed a weak, bitter smile. "Me."

The words had barely left my mouth when a dry, mocking laugh cut through the air. It was my brother, Ethan.

"Done playing the victim, Clara?"

"If you're going to keep up this act, you shouldn't have bothered coming home at all."

My father shot me a cold glare and tossed a broom at my feet.

"We don't air our dirty laundry in public," he bit out. "I don't know where you get this spiteful streak, envying Hailey since you were kids. And now this? Fighting her for a spot in a clinical trial that could save her life?"

"If you have the energy to fake being sick, you have the energy to do something useful. Go sweep the floor."

"What did I do to deserve a sister like you?" my brother sneered, pointing at me. "You should have left with Mom when you had the chance."

Hailey, feigning weakness, shot me a taunting, triumphant smile the moment our father and brother looked away.

I lowered my head and said nothing.

I'd heard these words countless times. From my father and brother as a child, and later, from Zane.

In their eyes, I was the jealous, vicious one.

This time, Zane had gone so far as to bring Hailey here, to the seaside villa where our love story began.

The old me would have burst into tears. I would have screamed, trying to expose Hailey's charade for everyone to see.

Not that anyone ever believed a word I said.

But now, I had no energy left. Besides, for a dying woman, none of it mattered anymore.

"But since you're here, there's something I need to discuss with you," my father said.

I gave a bitter smile. "Dad, I have something to tell you, too."

"Hailey wants my publishing rights, doesn't she? I've thought it over. She can have them."

My father and brother stared at me, stunned.

Zane walked in at that moment, freezing when he heard my words. "Clara, are you serious? You're really agreeing to this?"

I managed a faint smile and nodded.

I couldn't blame them for their shock and repeated questions.

Hailey had coveted my publishing rights for a long time. My father and brother had tried everything—cajoling, threatening—to get me to hand over the business I had worked so hard to build.

To be precise, they had always wanted me to give everything I owned to my dear sister, Hailey, for free.

But these novels were what my mother and I had poured our blood, sweat, and tears into, and I had never budged, no matter what they said.

Now, however, none of it mattered anymore.

I just felt like I was letting my mother down.

Seeing I was serious, the worry etched on Zane's forehead eased. He stepped forward and wrapped me in a hug. "That's wonderful, Clara!"

"Thank you for doing this for Hailey."

"Even though she's still in treatment, I know she'll do a great job with it."

I pulled away from his embrace and handed the transfer agreement to Hailey.

After Hailey signed it, my father and brother beamed, grabbing my hands and calling me a good girl over and over.

A sense of absurdity washed over me.

My husband, my father and brother—the people I loved most—would only smile at me when I gave in to Hailey.

But I was also curious. When they finally saw Hailey for who she truly was, and when they discovered I was the one who was dead, would they feel any regret?

The pain was starting to break through the medication's hold. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

I turned and walked into the bedroom.

When I woke up, our daughter, Olivia, was home from school. She was quietly sitting beside her father in the living room.

Wasted away to skin and bones, my footsteps made no sound on the floorboards. They were so absorbed, they didn't notice me at all.

Zane was on a video call with Hailey, explaining some surgical precautions and related medical details. Olivia listened attentively by his side, her eyes focused and obedient.

"Before the surgery, try not to sneak any midnight snacks or sips, okay? We need you nice and empty for the operation because I want you at your best."

It was ironic. I was on the verge of death, and only now did I see this patient, sharing side of my husband.

I remembered asking him once for some professional medical knowledge I needed for a plot point in my new novel.

And what had he said then?

"Clara, those sentimental novels you write hardly require that level of scientific accuracy." He hadn't even bothered to look up from his work.

He'd never read a single word I'd written, always dismissing it as a worthless hobby.

At first, I tried not to let it bother me. I told myself I just needed to believe in my own work.

But then came the day I saw Olivia standing on a stack of my published books, trying to reach a music box on a high shelf. "I'm getting it for Aunt Hailey," she'd said so innocently.

In that moment, I felt a crushing sense of worthlessness.

I had poured my heart and soul into this family, only to earn not a shred of respect.

In the past, I might have become hysterical, but now, I just calmly walked past them and sat on the sofa, organizing the papers in my bag.

Seeing my silence, Zane stopped playing. He paused for a moment, then walked over.

"Clara, there's something I'd like to talk to you about today."

Zane rubbed his nose, a nervous habit, and hesitated before speaking.

"It's about your sister, Hailey."

My heart sank as a terrible thought surfaced.

The next second, Zane's words left me stunned.

"Hailey's been so fragile these last few days. Your father and brother thought… well, they were hoping I'd marry her. To make her final wish of being a bride come true."

"We'll have to get a divorce first," Zane said, his voice devoid of any warmth.

A high-pitched ringing filled my ears, and for a moment, it felt like my soul was being ripped from my body.

It took a long time before I found my voice again.

"So, that's what you wanted to tell me?"

Zane wouldn't meet my eyes. He just let out a deep sigh.

"Clara, I know Hailey isn't your biological sister, but your father adopted her. She's lived with you for so long. She's family."

"It's just a formality. Fulfilling her final wish is the right thing to do."

"Besides, even with the clinical trial, she doesn't have much time. Once she's gone, I'll still be your husband."

Before I could even react, Olivia walked over and tugged on my sleeve. "Just think of it like a play, okay? For Aunt Hailey's dream."

Her innocent, childish voice pierced my heart like a knife.

I stared at the father and daughter before me.

This man, who once held me so tight and promised to love me forever.

This child, who once cuddled in my arms and called me Mommy.

I had never betrayed anyone. Never hurt anyone.

I tried so hard to be a good daughter, a good sister, a good wife, a good mother. I had given this family my all. I had nothing to be ashamed of.

And now, the people closest to me were working together to strip me of everything.

Love, family—to them, these were things that could be trampled on at will.

But at this point, if Hailey wanted it all, she could have it.

I didn't want any of it anymore.

My lips were chapped, my throat tight, but I simply nodded.

"Okay."

Zane hadn't expected me to agree so easily. A flash of surprise, and even a hint of relief, crossed his eyes.

"Are you serious?"

He didn't waste a second. He pulled a folder from his briefcase and slapped it down on the coffee table in front of me.

He'd had the divorce papers ready all along.

I let out a derisive laugh.

Dr. Zane Pierce, the top surgeon in the city.

So eager to get a divorce that he couldn't even be bothered to pretend otherwise.

For the last time, my signature flowed onto the paper, settling next to his.

Zane watched me sign, his expression a complicated mix of relief, guilt, and a barely perceptible sense of liberation.

"Clara," he said, his voice clear. "Honey, as soon as Hailey is gone, we'll get remarried. I swear, I'll make it up to you."

"You've changed. You're so much more understanding now. I was too selfish before, always busy with work, never taking proper care of you."

"When this is all over, I'll make it right."

Olivia clapped her hands excitedly. "Mommy, you're the best! Does this mean I can call aunt Hailey 'Mommy' now?"

That sentence shattered the last sliver of hope I had left.

I had no expectations for this family anymore.

Now, all I had to do was quietly wait for death.

I stood up, hoping to find a moment of peace washing dishes in the kitchen.

Just as I turned on the tap, a single, warm drop landed on the back of my hand.

Blood. Bright red.

I touched my nose, and my fingers came away stained crimson.

The world tilted on its axis. A violent wave of dizziness crashed over me, and the floor rushed up to meet me before I could even reach for something to hold on to.

In my last moment of consciousness, I saw Zane's panicked face.

When I came to, I smelled dust.

I was still lying on the cold floor.

Zane's brow was furrowed, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

"Clara, are you doing this again?"

"The nosebleeds, the fainting… can't you stop being so childish? You don't have to do this just to get out of doing some housework."

Olivia backed away, pinching her nose. "Mommy, we all know you're faking it! It's so lame how you're copying aunt Hailey."

Zane knelt, his eyes full of disappointment.

"Clara, just because we have to sign these papers doesn't mean you're not the one I love. You don't need to pull these little stunts to test me."

I silently dabbed my nose with a tissue.

The bleeding stopped quickly.

And then I understood.

The painkillers didn't just block the agony; they erased it, leaving me looking perfectly healthy on the outside.

For these three days, I was like a normal person.

Even if a symptom occasionally broke through, they would write it off as an emotional outburst.

So, the painkillers were even more effective than I'd imagined.

So effective, they would never suspect a thing.

"I saw your pathology report. You're fine. Your father and brother took Hailey out for some air; I'm going to pick them up now."

For a split second, Zane's expression wavered, but it passed as quickly as it came.

I struggled to my feet, my knees weak but holding.

"It was probably low blood sugar. I'm fine."

I wiped my hands clean and looked at Zane. "When Hailey gets back," I said, a cold smile touching my lips, "I'm giving her the villa. So she can die happy."

When he heard what I said, Zane was so stunned he forgot to greet my father, brother, and Hailey, who were just returning.

He rushed over and grabbed me, his face a picture of disbelief.

"Clara, you're really giving Hailey the villa?"

This confused me.

They had always sided with Hailey, giving her whatever she wanted, as if they would pluck the stars from the sky for her.

If I ever disagreed, they would never give me the time of day.

So why was it that now, when I was giving Hailey the very villa that symbolized the purest days of my love with Zane, they were the ones who couldn't understand?

My father and brother crowded around me.

My father's hand landed on my shoulder, heavy enough to make me stagger.

"Clara, I knew you were the kindest, most generous one!" he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Don't worry, we're just lending the house to Hailey for a little while. After she's gone…"

My brother took Hailey's hand, his eyes glistening with tears. "Hailey, did you hear that? Clara is giving you the house, too. This is what families do—we help each other."

Help each other?

Dear Father and brother, do you really think Hailey would ever help me?

You've never seen what lies beneath her false mask.

Just like right now, sitting in her wheelchair, she gave me the middle finger, a triumphant smile on her face.

Zane had his phone out in an instant. "John? Zane Pierce. I need you at the villa. Now. We're signing."

He was so anxious, as if he expected me to back out at any second.

The metallic taste of blood rose in my throat. I reached for the glass of water on the table, but my hand began to tremble violently.

The glass slipped, shattering on the floor, sending shards flying everywhere.

"Clara, why are you so clumsy? And you call yourself a writer? Look at you, hands trembling so badly you can barely hold a pen! Giving the publishing rights to Hailey is the best thing for them!" Ethan said with a frown.

I stared at my trembling hands and finally, unable to stop myself, I looked at them.

"Father, brother…" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "If it were me who was dying… would you even care?"

But my brother just waved a dismissive hand.

"You're just stressed lately. Relax! Look at you, you're perfectly healthy—you've got great color in your cheeks."

"It's Hailey you should be worried about. Look how thin she's gotten. It just breaks your heart."

As he spoke, my father stroked Hailey's head.

"Exactly!" Olivia chimed in. "You're strong and healthy, Mommy. Aunt Hailey is the one who really needs to be taken care of!"

Hearing Olivia echo their words, I stumbled. Zane must have thought I was about to cause a scene.

"After you sign, you should get checked out at the hospital. I'll have one of the interns take a look."

How ridiculous. A top surgeon, telling his wife to see an intern.

It's alright. I won't be a bother to any of you for much longer.

I turned to Olivia and said with a smile:

"Olivia, since this villa is going to be for Aunt Hailey now, why don't you pick out a room for her?"

"Do you want the ocean-view master bedroom, or your room?"

Olivia's eyes lit up with excitement. "Can I really choose?!"

I gave her a faint smile.

"Once you choose a room, you can be with Aunt Hailey every day. She can be with you all the time."

"Think carefully about which one you want."

Olivia jumped up and down. "I want the ocean-view master bedroom! It's the prettiest! You're the best, Mommy!"

With that, she pulled her hand from mine and ran to Hailey. "Aunt Hailey, can we live in the ocean-view room from now on?"

My father, brother, and Zane watched the scene, their faces beaming with approval.

I turned and left, taking one last look back at them.

My father and brother were with Hailey, doting on Olivia, while Zane stood by, a smile on his face.

I wondered if he even remembered that he'd bought this house in the first place because I told him I wanted to live by the sea.

"This way, Clara," he had said back then, his eyes overflowing with love, "you can see your beloved ocean every single day."

But now, there was no trace of me left in his eyes.

I closed the villa door and walked away.

With only 24 hours left to live, I had nowhere to go.

The damp, salty air of the Sound washed over my face.

I boarded the ferry to the small island across Puget Sound.

The dizziness was getting stronger, my vision blackening in waves.

I knew I couldn't hold on much longer.

Before the darkness swallowed me whole, I fumbled in my purse for my phone.

With my last shred of strength, I made one final call.

Then everything went black. I knew no more.