The Donor Took My Life

th a loving husband, Damien, and a loyal best friend, Cohen. My world was pe

splant, and I was finally healthy, ready to surprise them. But when I arrived at m

looking just like me. The world tilted. I stumbled, hitting my head, as Damien' s voice crackled

Kara, the woman I pitied, the one who claimed she didn't take char

brother, they were in this together. The betrayal was complete. I knew then that

pte

in Silicon Valley. I built a tech empire from t

verse, a fragile treasure he had to protect. Every morning, he' d personally make my coffee, exactly how I liked it, and

ore than a business partner; he was the brother I never had. He guided me, celebrated my wins, and pic

ant men in my life. The pilla

came out of nowhere: a rare, aggressive liver

I remember Damien holding my

r I have. We'll find a

d me, his own

e whispered. "Whatever

. They kept

n Switzerland that specialized in partial liver transplants. Cohen put his entire life on hold, mov

ng, of being separated from the life I knew. But it worked

-the shock, the joy. I pictured Damien dropping whatever he was doing to sweep m

rancisco penthouse, the glass towe

by. The new security guard stop

can I he

excitement. "I live here. I'

nge. He looked me up and down, the

you are, but Mrs.

"I'm sorry, wh

tone shifted from professional to a

You need to leave bef

I said, my voice shaking

laugh. He pulled out his phone

s Mrs.

g into the camera. A woman who looked so much like me it was disorien

t me. It was

ver d

, my hand flying to my mouth. The

zy fans like you all the time, trying

bbs" with a certain fami

h, and my body, still weak from years of treatment, couldn't take the force

ind my eyes, and the worl

ed to life. A voice, clear and familiar,

down there? I told you

obbs, sir. Sorry for the disturbance. Just a crazy w

od ran

ent. "Just get rid of her. Kara is trying

such tenderness, a tone he

en had designed for me, with the floor-to-ceiling

g me over the threshold after we got married, his voice thick with

eping in our bed, and he w

thing compared to the agon

and feminine, murmured fro

honey, wh

en cooed, his voice melting into that f

't forget we have dinn

io clic

le

er. My husband. They were together,

ody screaming in protest. I stumbled out of the b

rating in my pocket.

new round of therapy isn't too ha

r, another on

e in Switzerland with you this week, things ar

es. They were texting me about my "recovery" while

n at Damien's company. She had the same eyes,

rom a parallel univers

er. "Don't be silly. There's only one

cused on me, he rarely noticed other women. He' d dis

upport her sick mother. She had agreed to be my donor in exchange for

sed in cheap clothes that didn't quite fit, her posture

er a personal check, far m

," I told her. "This i

eck back into my hand

, Mrs. Hobbs. I do

me then. Now, I saw it