Chapter 3

3: 3

My son rushed at me and shoved me to the floor, screaming.

"Mom, Dad was always so good to you, and he's not even cold yet and you want to donate his organs? You're evil."

I knew he wasn't mine by blood, but I'd raised him with everything I had for nine years, and hearing him curse me like this still turned my heart to ice.

I slapped him across the face.

"You little wretch. Your father is dead. I'm barely holding myself together, and the only reason I've kept going is to honor his last wish. And you turn around and curse me without even asking what's true. Nine years of raising you, all for nothing."

He clutched his cheek and stared at me, shocked. It was the first time I'd ever raised a hand to him.

"Mom, you actually hit me."

Brooklyn quickly pulled him into her arms and glared at me with pure resentment.

"Mamie, how could you strike a child?"

I hung up the phone, forced out a few tears, and looked at them.

"I'm Mervyn's wife. I love him more than anyone. I want him to leave this world whole, too. But he told me once, when he died, he wanted his organs donated, to help more people, so his life could go on. No matter how much it hurts me, I have to carry out his last wish."

Then I pointed at my son, my voice full of disappointment.

"But George, I raised you for nine years, and over one thing you decide I'm evil. You've let me down more than you know."

He glared back at me.

"You hit me, so you're the bad one. You're not gentle and kind like Auntie Brooklyn. I don't want you for a mom, you bad woman. Auntie Brooklyn is my real mom—"

Before he could finish, Brooklyn clamped a hand over his mouth and shot me a nervous look.

"Mamie, he's just a child talking out of anger. You gave birth to him. You're the only mother he has."

But I kept my eyes cold on my son, my voice low.

"George, are you sure you want Brooklyn to be your mother?"

He was about to speak when Brooklyn dug her fingers into his arm and snapped.

"George, apologize to your mother right now."

His eyes went red, wounded, but he still spoke.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I was wrong."

Inside I laughed coldly. Nine years I'd raised this child, and he threw poison at me while obeying Brooklyn's every word. Nine years of my life, and it had all been a joke.

Brooklyn looked at me.

"Mamie, he doesn't know any better. Don't hold it against him."

Just then more than a dozen people walked in.

"Hello, we're from the organ donation center. Is Mr. Mervyn Simmons's body here?"

I nodded and pointed to Mervyn's body.

"Yes. I'm Mervyn's spouse. My husband died today in an accident. I want to donate his organs on his behalf, to help more people and fulfill his last wish."

The person in charge took out a donation agreement and handed it to me.

"Miss Swanson, if you're certain you want to donate Mr. Simmons's organs, then please sign, and we'll take his body now for examination and surgery."

I was reaching for it when my mother-in-law rushed over and tore the agreement to pieces.

"I don't agree. Mamie, my son treated you well, and now that he's dead you want to cut out his organs and rob him of any peace?"

I sighed and explained through my tears.

"Mom, this was Mervyn's last wish."

But she glared at me and shouted.

"I don't care. My son never said any such thing to me. I won't allow his organs to be donated. Where we come from, if a body isn't whole, the soul can't pass on into its next life."

Suddenly my son threw his arms around my arm, crying and pleading.

"Mom, please don't donate Dad's organs, okay? Please, I'm begging you."

Any other time, this would have broken my heart. But now, remembering that he'd helped that pair of adulterers frame me, I felt nothing but disappointment and cold.