After my sister's appendectomy left her without both kidneys, I took a scalpel and held an entire hospital hostage.

I locked twelve doctors and three patients in the morgue, announcing to the world they'd all been infected with HIV.

With only three hours until the treatment window closed, the doctors, trembling and begging, swore that they knew nothing.

I started a live stream, flashing a blood-stained scalpel. "You have three hours to find my sister's kidneys."

I didn't care if they were already inside someone else.

...

Two minutes ago, Dr. Michael Harris, the hospital's arrogant director, was still defiant as I bound his wrists with an IV tube.

"You're done for!" he sneered. "I called the police. You think a scalpel is gonna make me flinch?"

His words barely hit the air before I drove the blade into his gut, then yanked it out. Blood sprayed across my white coat, warm and sticky.

I adjusted the livestream camera, my hands steady. "Don't worry. Soon, the world will see you squirm."

His bravado crumbled as he clutched his wound, his eyes wide with fear.

Two minutes later, I flipped on the camera, flashing a cold smile to the digital void. "Evening, folks. Here's the thing. Three days ago, these people caught HIV. You have three hours until the treatment window closes."

I started a countdown timer, its red digits glowing ominously on the dissection table behind me.

Sirens wailed outside. A police officer's voice boomed through a megaphone.

"Hanna Carpenter, don't do anything rash! We can work this out. Name your price."

My jaw tightened, my eyes narrowing to slits. They thought I was crazy, but my sister was clinging to life on a dialysis machine.

All I wanted was what was stolen from her.

The livestream chat erupted, thousands of viewers piling in. They thought it was a stunt until they saw Michael's blood-soaked shirt.

[Holy crap! That's the doctor from the news. The one who botched that kidney surgery!]

[This woman is out for blood. I'm here for it. Take those bastards down.]

[The others are innocent. She's unhinged. Where are the police?]

The hostages huddled against the morgue's icy steel cabinets, trembling with dread.

I spun the scalpel between my fingers, the blood on it catching the light. "I only want my sister's kidneys back. What's wrong with that?"

The megaphone crackled again. "This is Captain Anthony Hatcher. I swear on my badge, we're scouring for a new donor for Lauren Carpenter. Don't throw your life away. She'll be okay."

"You deaf?" I snapped. "I want her kidneys back, even if they're stitched into someone else's body."

...

The livestream went viral, spreading like wildfire across the internet.

Netizens dug up the story: Lauren went in for a routine appendectomy at this small-town hospital and came out missing both kidneys. The hospital blamed an intern, claiming the organs were misplaced. The intern swore they'd been thrown in the trash. I spent two rain-soaked days scouring a landfill, finding nothing.

Lauren was transferred to an ICU, hooked to a dialysis machine that hummed like a death knell. My parents were ghosts of themselves, aging decades in a week.

I vowed to reclaim her kidneys, no matter the cost.

A deep voice cut through my thoughts. "Dr. Carpenter, we're heartbroken this happened."

It was the dean, Robert Sharp. He sighed, "We fired that intern. What more do you want?"

I froze, my grip tightening on the scalpel. Lauren lost her kidneys and her future, and they thought sacking some kid balanced the scales.

"You're hard of hearing?" I snapped. "I want her kidneys back! I don't care if they're in Timbuktu or sewn into some rich bastard's gut. Dig them out!"

Robert's tone sharpened, his patience fraying. "We would never do that. It was the intern's mistake. You think a few dead doctors and patients will magic her kidneys back? You're a doctor, too. Can you live with ruining their lives, knowing they'll be ostracized forever?"

I went silent, the words hitting like a punch.

An elderly patient croaked, "I'm supposed to go home tomorrow. Please, let me go. I've slaved away my whole life. My son is getting married next month. I can't die here."

My fingers clenched the scalpel, the metal cold against my palm. Robert's voice slithered through again. "Calm down, Hanna. We won't fire you. You can still save your sister."

His words snapped me back. I stared into the camera, a bitter laugh escaping. "They're just gonna catch HIV. Lauren is facing death. If you want them to live, find her kidneys. Two hours and fifty minutes left."

...

That wasn't just a challenge to the police. It was a plea to the world.

I was just a minor doctor with no pull. Alone, I'd never track down Lauren's kidneys. By any means necessary, I needed everyone's help.

The internet exploded.

[She's threatening us now? The police can't even handle this, and she expects random people to play detective?]

[Why should I care if she kills them?]

[Hold on. Let's hope some hacker steps up. Lives are at stake.]

As the online chaos grew, the police outside were sweating through their vests.

Anthony lost his temper. "Where the hell are her sister's kidneys? What is this hospital covering up?"

"Ask the intern. It's all on her," Robert replied smoothly. "And your people? Can't even crack a reinforced door?"

Anthony ground his teeth. The morgue's steel door was a vault. Even the locksmiths couldn't touch it. Blasting it open might risk me losing it and killing everyone.

Inside, Michael clutched his wound, his lips pale. "I can't hold on. Please, stop the bleeding. I know where Lauren's kidneys went."

My pulse spiked. I crouched beside him, the scalpel glinting. "Where?"

Before he could answer, Robert's voice boomed from outside. "Michael, don't run your mouth and tank the hospital's reputation. We'll get you out."

I pressed the blade against Michael's abdomen. "Bleed out now or later?"

...

Michael's face was a portrait of despair, his lips trembling. "They were tossed in the medical waste bin. Even if you found them, they'd be rotting by now."

I stared into his fading eyes, my teeth grinding. Even now, he was stuck to the lie.

I wondered what he was protecting.

Anthony, sensing the tension, shouted, "Dr. Carpenter, don't do anything reckless. He might not know anything. Patch him..."

Before he could finish, I plunged the scalpel into Michael again. Each stab was precise and brutal until his body was riddled with holes.

He clutched his abdomen, his eyes wide. His lips moved slightly, as if begging me for mercy.

I paused, then stood up as his blood pooled on the tiles like a scarlet bloom. He slid down to the ground and stopped moving.

The livestream chat went wild.

[She killed him! Blood is everywhere! She's lost it!]

[My dad is in there. Someone, find her sister's kidneys. I can't lose him.]

I wiped the blood from my cheek, slipping on a surgical mask. "Forgot to mention. They're all HIV-positive."

Turning to the camera, I added, "Anyone with access, check the city's kidney transplant records from the past five days. Lauren's kidneys are out there."

My calm ignited the viewers' fury. The thrill of the spectacle was gone.

[Your sister deserved this, you psycho! Go to hell with her!]

I tilted my head, unfazed. "Fine by me. But if I go down, they're coming with me. Good Samaritans out there, help these poor souls. Won't your conscience nag you if they die?"

...

Anthony slammed his fist against the steel door, his voice raw. "She's a murderer, and she's got the gall to blackmail the world?"

Robert furrowed his brow. "Can't you kill the stream? If this keeps up, our reputation is done. No one will come to this hospital."

Anthony wanted to deck him. If the hospital hadn't botched Lauren's surgery, none of this would've happened.

The stream was hosted overseas, beyond their reach. The priority was finding the intern and making her talk.

Anthony gritted his teeth. "Dr. Carpenter, we're tracking the intern. She knows something."

"You found her yet?" I asked.

Anthony went quiet, and then his earpiece crackled. "The intern vanished three days ago. We can't find her."

"She is a scapegoat," I scoffed. "What could she know?"

I glanced at the timer. "Ten minutes down the drain. You can't even pull a transplant list? What a joke!"

Anthony's face burned, but he didn't dare to push me.

The hostages, shivering and clinging to each other, stared at me like I was the Grim Reaper.

My patience wearing thin, I clicked my tongue. "Guess three hours are too generous. If that transplant list isn't here in thirty minutes, I will pick off hostages. One body or two makes no difference to me."

I checked my watch. "Thirty-minute countdown starts now. People, do your thing."

Robert sighed outside, his tone dripping with false sincerity. "Dr. Carpenter, you know Lauren's kidneys are gone. You're just forcing us to find a new donor, aren't you? You'll get the death penalty, and your parents will be left caring for her. Can you live with that?"

...

I lowered my gaze, recalling my mom's swollen eyes from crying and my dad's hunched back.

They were small-town farmers who'd poured their lives into raising me and Lauren. We were supposed to repay them and give them a better life.

But the disaster fell on Lauren, my sweet, selfless sister, who had scavenged bottles one summer to buy me a cheap birthday necklace.

Now she was lying in a sterile bed, with tubes snaking from her body.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "You're right, Mr. Sharp."

He exhaled, hopeful. "Let them go. You might get a lighter sentence."

"I can die," I cut in, my tone sharp. "But Lauren must live!"

"What?"

"Actually, it's not just them with HIV. I've scattered blood samples across the city. Only I know where they're hiding. It's two a.m. now and three hours till sunrise. Anyone could catch HIV by dawn."