Chapter 1

In my last life, I gave my nephew one of my kidneys.

When I lay down on the operating table, the relatives all praised me for being sensible, devoted to the family, loyal to the people I loved.

They said I'd saved my brother and sister-in-law's only child, that I was the greatest benefactor the Fox family had ever known.

The first year, they brought my nephew and expensive gifts and kowtowed to me, spending every kind word they had, kneeling to thank me for my great kindness.

The second year, they still came with my nephew to bow their thanks for what I'd done.

By the third year, my body had started to weaken. I couldn't lift anything with the slightest weight to it. They said a few words about taking care of myself, set down their gifts, and left.

By the fourth year, I was aging fast, and they looked at me like they'd seen something horrifying. The old gratitude had turned into a thorn, working its way into their hearts.

By the fifth year, they stopped coming at all. They said that every time they saw me, all they could see in my eyes was resentment they couldn't wash away.

In the sixth year, my nephew fell ill again and ended up in the hospital.

My brother and sister-in-law never blamed him for staying up all night gaming after his surgery, for eating and drinking whatever he wanted, for ignoring every instruction the doctors gave.

They insisted it was my kidney. Poor quality, they said.

My sister-in-law showed up at my door again, wailing at the top of her lungs.

"That kidney of yours, was it defective from the start? Otherwise why would Percy be sick all over again?"

My brother stood beside her, his face cold, his voice colder.

"Get yourself healthy and donate again. We're family. You can't just stand there and watch your nephew die."

I only had one kidney left. Donating again meant dying.

I refused.

And just like that, I became the sinner of the whole family.

My parents cursed me as cold-blooded, ungrateful, a wasted lifetime of raising.

Relatives from every branch took turns showing up to lecture me, to lean on me.

Every last one of them stood on the moral high ground and demanded I be the sacrifice.

In the end, they cornered me until there was nowhere left to go, and I couldn't take the torment anymore. I jumped.

Lying in the pool of my own blood, in the last moment before I died, I heard my sister-in-law spitting curses at me.

"Damned worthless thing. You'd rather die than give your nephew a kidney. How can anyone be this vicious, this heartless?"

When I opened my eyes again, my brother was standing in the living room, holding the match report, saying with delight,

"This is wonderful, little Vera. You and Percy are a match. Percy's going to be okay."

This time, I looked at the hope on every face in that family, and I spoke, softly.

"I won't donate."

1

That "I won't" dropped the living room into dead silence.

The excitement and expectation on their faces froze solid in an instant.

My sister-in-law was the first to snap out of it.

She shot to her feet, staring at me like she couldn't believe her ears, her voice climbing sharply.

"Vera Fox, what did you say? Say it again."

I stayed on the couch, my back straight, none of the timid, soft-hearted girl I'd been in my last life left in me.

"I said, I'm not giving Percy a kidney."

Her face went gray and pinched, her eyes flooding red, tears coming the second she willed them.

"Vera, that's your own nephew. He's only twelve. Can you really stand there and watch him get tortured to death by this illness?"

I kept my head down, said nothing, looked at no one.

When she saw I wasn't moving, she spun and grabbed my mother's hand, sobbing so hard her whole body shook.

"Mom, look at your daughter! How can she be this heartless? Percy's her own nephew, she watched him grow up!

"If she won't donate, Percy's whole life is ruined! How can she just watch him die?"

My mother's face was as ugly as it could get. She turned and glared at me, her eyes full of disappointment.

"You wretched girl. Percy is the Fox family's only bloodline. You're this cold about it, do you want the Fox line to die out?"

"Weren't you always the sensible one? How can you be so muddled now? Can you even face the ancestors of the Fox family?"

My brother stood off to the side, his face dark as still water, his eyes locked on me, his voice pressing down.

"Little Vera, you've always loved Percy the most. We're family, bone broken but still joined at the tendon. You save Percy's life, and our whole family will remember what we owe you for the rest of our lives."

Last life, he'd said he would remember what he owed me too.

But four years in, that debt had turned into a grudge.

By the fifth year, my health was nothing like it had been, and they wouldn't set foot in my house.

They said that one look at me and my eyes seemed to blame them for taking a kidney from me, and it gave them the creeps.

Even though I'd never once thought that.

I watched them play off each other, watched their practiced misery, their moral blackmail.

And the scar their so-called family love had carved into me last life ached, a dense, crowded ache all across my chest.

Last life, they'd used one phrase, "we're family," to bind up my life.

Used one word, "sensible," to squeeze me dry.

I saved my nephew and destroyed my own life in the process.

And ended up despised for a bad kidney, hounded to death.

Why should I?

I stood up and looked at my brother, calm.

"Zane Fox, donating a kidney wrecks your body. With one gone, I'll never do heavy work again for the rest of my life. I'll be on medication just to keep going."

"I still have a daughter and a home to take care of. So I can't donate."

The words had barely left my mouth when my father's hand shot up and cracked hard across my face.

A sharp, loud smack.

My head snapped to the side, half my face burning, my ear ringing.

His chest heaving with rage, he jabbed a finger at me and let the curses fly.

"You selfish, cold-blooded dog! I raised you all these years, and this is what I got, a selfish, ungrateful ingrate?

"So what if you lose one kidney? You've got a husband, since when is heavy work your job? If your nephew dies, this family's line ends!

"Today that kidney gets donated whether you want to or not! I'm not letting you throw a tantrum over this!"

I held my cheek and slowly raised my head.

My eyes stayed dry, but my heart had gone cold all the way through.

I said,

"Dad, this is a country ruled by law. As long as I don't want to donate, no one has the right to force me."