When I was in the early stages of brain cancer, my parents begged me to give my sister one of my kidneys.

They also told me to give them the money I had saved for my treatment.

When my sister left the hospital, it was her birthday. My parents threw her a party while I lay in a hospital bed trying to get better.

Later, when my mom found out I had late-stage brain cancer, she begged my sister to give me a kidney.

My sister said no. So, on the day of my funeral, my mom buried both of her kidneys with me.

I woke up and found myself in a hospital bed in the emergency room.

I only remembered a little. I was working part-time moving boxes when I felt a sharp pain in my head as I stood up.

The doctor advised me to get a full checkup. “Most of the costs can be covered by health insurance.”

However, I declined and only got a basic scan.

I needed my mom’s approval for any expenses over 500.

Besides, I worked at a small company. My boss said he would not provide benefits but would give me a higher salary instead.

So, I had no health insurance and could not afford to get sick.

My parents said those benefits were a waste of money and praised my boss for being smart.

They told me it was better to use the money to buy health supplements for Joan Parker, my sister.

However, I found out they had secretly gotten Joan a bunch of insurance plans.

When the doctor looked at my brain scan, he frowned hard.

Right then, my heart started to beat fast.

“You have early-stage brain cancer. It hasn’t spread much, but you should get treatment soon. Surgery will likely work.”

Surgery? I did not have the money for surgery.

My fists trembled from nervousness as I clenched them tightly on my lap.

Joan needed a kidney transplant. So, I had used most of my salary to help pay for her treatment.

I did not have enough money left in the bank.

Unless… Just then, I thought of an idea and suddenly felt hopeful again about the future.

I told the doctor that I would try to get the money in two weeks and return for treatment.

I was stuck in the hospital all morning. After that, I hurried over to a restaurant. Even making some money was better than nothing.

On weekends, I worked at the restaurant and a second job at a bar in the evenings.

Ever since Joan got sick, I had even worked on New Year’s Eve as a waitress at a hotel restaurant.

My parents said working on holidays paid triple, and only a fool would not take that chance.

By the time I finished work, it was already 1 a.m.

It was a cold winter night, and the wind made me shiver. Cabs were expensive at midnight, but I could walk home in 40 minutes from here.

My parents usually went to bed early, so I did not turn on the lights when I arrived. I quietly changed my shoes and started walking upstairs.

Just as I reached the second floor, I saw a small figure closing my room door under the dim hallway light.

I picked up a broom and waited for the right moment to move.

I heard the sound of a zipper. It sounded like someone putting something into a bag.

Was it a thief?

My heart raced. I walked quietly and felt for the light switch by the stairs.

“Don’t blame me. I’m doing this for Joan.

“I don’t have a choice.”

Relief washed over me. It was my mom.

I turned on the light, and she screamed.

I called out to her, and she turned around in shock. She looked at me with unfocused eyes.

When she realized it was me, she snapped. “Why are you sneaking around like that in the middle of the night?! What’s wrong with you?! You scared me!”

What was wrong with me? I was sick.

She looked nervous and uneasy, just like Joan always did when she had done something wrong.

I was used to her yelling. If I came home early, she would say I was lazy. If I came home late, she would say I was out doing bad things.

She seemed to realize she had overreacted. So, she cleared her throat awkwardly and said, “I was just checking if you were home. Since you’re back, I’ll go to sleep.”

Her sudden concern felt strange. She and my dad had been living in a rented place near the hospital for almost two years. They hardly ever came home.

I wanted to say something but ended up keeping quiet.

She mumbled to herself when I did not respond.

Then, she quickly entered her room while hugging her black backpack tightly.

After a quick wash, I did not go to sleep right away.

Instead, I checked one of my other bank accounts. It had 50,000. This was the money I had secretly saved over the years, just in case something happened.

However, it was still not enough to cover my treatment costs.

If I wanted to get the rest in two weeks, I had to take a risk.

On the table was a design I had worked on for six months. If I entered it in a contest and won, the prize money would cover my medical costs.

Also, if I entered it under my name, I would not have to share it with the company.

The next day, I opened the registration portal and submitted my design.

Unfortunately, before the day ended, I received a call from the organizers. They said the design had already been entered under my company’s name and asked me not to resubmit it.

Under the company’s name?

I felt a rush of anger. My chair dragged across the floor loudly as I got up, and I walked straight to my boss’s office.

My boss looked happy to see me. He pulled me in and poured me some tea. “Jenna, I didn’t think you’d be willing to enter your design under the company’s name. Starting next month, we’re giving you a 10% raise.

“Your mom told me to submit the design for you this morning, so I sent it right before the deadline. Don’t worry. If you win, you’ll get 70% of the prize. You’re doing the company proud.”

My mom?

After a bit of small talk, I stepped out and called her from the break room.

I did not hide my frustration. “Mom, did you give my design to my boss? I told you I was entering on my own. That way I’d get to keep the full prize if I win.”

“You’re so heartless and selfish. Your boss is nice to you, and he even said you’d get a raise.”

According to her, I did not understand how things worked in real life.

“It’s payday. Remember to pay Joan’s medical bills. The doctor asked me about it this morning.”

She was always like that. She decided on everything concerning me without asking, as though the design was not mine. It was like I was just a tool she used to deal with my boss.

I only mentioned the contest once, but she took it seriously and made decisions without telling me.

I wanted to enter the contest under my own name so that I could save more money for Joan’s medical bills.

Two weeks later, I won first prize and could get 150,000.

I quickly found my mom and showed her my early-stage brain cancer report. I told her that I needed treatment.

She did not even look at it. She turned away and made hot water for Joan instead. “You’ve probably just been playing on your phone too much. People always get worried over small headaches or fevers. You had a fever all night when you were a kid, but you were fine the next day.”

I stood in the hallway holding my wrinkled report and felt lost. “It’s real. I’m not lying.”

“I’m going to wipe Joan’s face now. Remember to pay her medical bills.”

With that, she walked down the hall.

The morning sun was bright. It shone on her and made her look like a caring mother, but only to Joan, not to me.

The next day, the doctor called. He told me to undergo an examination and begin treatment soon.

I told the doctor that I did not have money, and my family was against it.

Hearing this, the doctor spoke louder. “Your mom came to see me yesterday. I told her how much your cancer has spread. She said she’ll try to convince you to get treatment. Please make an appointment soon, or else, it will be too late.”

Right then, I felt a little happy. At least, she cared.

After I spoke to the doctor, my mom called me. My voice sounded happier when I answered, but my heart sank in the next moment.

“I’ve talked to the doctor. Your cancer isn’t serious. Just rest, and you’ll be fine. Don’t waste money on checkups or hospital stays. We can barely afford Joan’s treatment as is. Quit your weekend job and rest.”

At that, my heart clenched again.

However, the doctor had clearly explained my condition to her.

When Joan and I both had fevers as kids, my parents would point out that I was the older sister. So, there was apparently no need to waste money on me. They would take Joan to the hospital and only give me some basic fever medicine.

I should have gotten used to it after so long.

I tried to keep working part-time, but my body just could not keep up, so I quit.

Even the restaurant owner said I looked pale and suggested that I go for a checkup.

After pushing through for another week, I decided to get another checkup at a different hospital.

The results did not come out right away. But based on experience, the doctor told me to be mentally prepared, as my condition did not seem good.

I lowered my head. There was nothing left to prepare for.

As I was leaving, I ran into my neighbors, a middle-aged couple. They showed real concern for me. Most of the kindness I had experienced in life had come from them.

After I bade them goodbye, I went to pay the bill. But the staff told me that there was not enough money in my account.

Thankfully, I had some cash on me, or else, it would have been embarrassing.

How could there not be enough money? This card had 50,000 in it. With the prize money, there should have been 200,000.

I started to feel uneasy and called the bank to check.

A woman answered politely, “Hello, there were two transfers this week, one for 50,000 and one for 150,000.”

There was only one possibility: My mom had moved the money. I rushed to my parents’ rental place.

When I knocked on the door, she was making chicken soup.

Once she opened the door and saw me, she said, “Why are you here in the middle of a workday? Your boss must be too easy on you. I should call him and tell him to give you more work. You’ve got too much free time.”

However, I was not free at all. Because of her, I had to handle all kinds of small tasks at work.

It was my boss who had noticed I did not look well. He gave me half a day off and told me to visit the hospital. He also told me to rest.

“Where’s the money in my card? That money could save my life!”

“Your money? I can’t believe you were hiding money from us. That money is for your sister. It could save her life!”

However, I was the one who had cancer!

The doctor already told her I was not doing well.

If she looked closely at my face, she would see how pale and tired I was.

Maybe then, she would not say such a thing. At least, I tried to believe that.

“Good timing. Tomorrow, you’re going to the hospital for a checkup.”

I looked up at her with hope.

“You’ll get tested again. See if you can donate a kidney to Joan. The doctor said it’s safer between family.”

They already tested me before. Back then, they got on their knees and begged me to help Joan.

The results showed that I was not a match.

Yet, she never gave up on the idea of me donating my kidney.

She told me to stay over so that we could go to the hospital early in the morning.

That night, I could not sleep.

The next morning, my mom got up early and made porridge for Joan. After pushing me to eat, she took me to the hospital.

When we walked into the hospital, my mom pulled me toward the stairs instead of using the elevator. She made us take a longer way.

By the time we reached the fourth floor, I was out of breath, and I had to hold on to the railing.

She kept walking fast and said with a sneer, “See? You’re not sick. You just don’t exercise enough.”

When I got to Joan’s room, my mom had already set the porridge in front of her.

Joan looked at me and quietly started eating.

When she looked down, I saw the hatred in her eyes.

She used to show off in front of me all the time.

However, after she got sick, she just became cold toward me.

I knew I was not welcome, so I stepped out of the room to wait for my mom.

I leaned against the wall and looked at my feet. Just then, I heard footsteps, and someone stood before me. It was the doctor who had examined me before.

At that moment, I realized something. My mom had taken the stairs on purpose to avoid him.

The doctor sighed and said, “Finally. I’ve been trying to reach you. I told you to get treated right away.”

He calmed down and said, “The doctor who examined you the other day is my friend. We talked about you. You need to be ready. Besides brain cancer, your kidneys aren’t doing well either. If you don’t get treated soon, you’ll have only about three months left.”

Just then, my mom peeked out of the room and said, “That can’t be true. She’s been fine. She’s still going to donate a kidney to Joan. She’s strong.”

“It doesn’t matter how strong someone is if the cancer spreads. That won’t help,” the doctor said angrily.

Then, he looked at me with concern and said to my mom, “Joan is already first on the transplant list. She still has time. It’s Jenna who’s running out of time. Don’t you want to save her?”