Brought Home to Be a Heart Donor

When my long-lost, wealthy family tracks me down, I thought my years of suffering were finally over. Then, a so-called accidental car crash happens. I wake up able to hear everyone's thoughts. My mother, Mandy Newman, gently strokes my forehead, yet in her mind, she complains, "Why didn't she end up in a coma? It would've been much easier to take her heart that way." My father, Carl Jenkinson, prays, "Please don't let her heart be damaged. The people Victor hired are completely useless. We should've taken it while she was still unconscious." My two-faced sister, Mia Jenkinson, screams internally in tears, "System, scan her heart now! My new heart cannot have the slightest damage!" A chill runs down my spine as the truth comes crashing down on me. It turns out my parents have approved of the car accident my fiance, Victor Stark, orchestrated. They have searched tirelessly for me all these years, not to give me a home, but to carve out my heart and save their precious fake heiress. Fine. If this is the game they're playing, I have no reason to play nice. Chapter 1 I clutched my head and groaned in pain. "My head is pounding… Who are you guys?" Carl Jenkinson and Mandy Newman, my biological parents, exchanged a look of barely concealed delight. "She's got amnesia? Perfect! That'll make her so much easier to control!" Just then, the door to the hospital room swung open. In came a tall doctor with sharp features. His expression was ice-cold, and the name on his badge read "Dr. Ezra Thatcher". "What's all the noise?" he said flatly. "The patient needs to rest." Mandy immediately plastered on a flattering smile. "Thank goodness you're here, Dr. Thatcher. I think our daughter has lost her memory." Ezra ignored her. He walked over to my bedside, glanced through my chart, then leaned over to examine the wound on my forehead. "Mild concussion. The CT scan shows no intracranial bleeding." Straightening up, he explained flatly, "But her vital signs indicate a level of fear beyond what a mild concussion would cause. It's more consistent with symptoms of PTSD, not amnesia." My head snapped up, and my heart nearly leaped out of my throat. Had he seen through my act? Then, the next second, I heard Ezra's inner voice. "Seriously? Is this family putting on yet another performance? One look, and I can tell they're all rotten. That old man even tried to bribe me into falsifying her medical report last time." To my surprise, he calmly adjusted his glasses without the slightest change in expression and turned to Mandy. "That said, the brain is a complex organ. We can't rule out temporary memory loss. We'll need to observe her for now and make sure she isn't subjected to any further stress." And he was covering for me, too! Just as I was still reeling, the hospital room door opened again. Victor walked in, his face etched with concern. "Eloise, are you okay? I heard you lost your memory. Do you… remember me?" "You'd better not turn into an idiot. Wait. If Mia ends up with an idiot's heart, will she become an idiot, too?" he pondered. I sneered inwardly. If this was how they wanted to do it, two could play that game! In an instant, I slipped into character. My gaze turned soft and vulnerable as I grabbed Victor's sleeve. My voice came out sweet and clingy. "Hey, you look pretty cute. Seeing how worried you are about me, I suppose you must love me very much, right?" Victor was weirded out, to say the least. "What the hell is wrong with this woman?" Before he could respond, I turned to Carl and Mandy with teary eyes. "Mom, Dad, I can tell you both are really good to me. I may not remember anything, but I bet you two love me very much. Isn't that right?" I emphasized how we were obviously a loving family, affectionately grabbing their arms and squeezing my sister, Mia Jenkinson, out of the way. That fragile, pitiful expression on her face cracked instantly. She watched me laughing and chatting with our parents. Realizing how concerned Victor looked, she was so enraged that her fingers trembled. "System, she's definitely faking it!" Out of the blue, Mia clutched her chest, her lips pale. "My chest… It hurts…" Carl and Mandy panicked, rushing to her side. "Mia, what's wrong? You're scaring me!" "Quick! Get a doctor! She needs a full examination!" I watched the chaos unfold and scoffed secretively. On the surface, I was an understanding, gentle daughter and anxiously advised, "Mom, Dad, please go with Mia right now. I'll be fine. Her health is what matters most." The whole group descended into frantic panic, surrounding Mia as they hurried her out of the room. Just like that, the hospital room that had been filled with noise a moment ago became quiet. Ezra was the only one who remained. He shot me an indifferent glance. "A master manipulator has met her match. This is going to be entertaining." I nearly burst out laughing. Chapter 2 I decided to gamble. Ezra might have a razor-sharp tongue, but he was undeniably observant. More importantly, he seemed to have nothing but contempt for my so-called family. I dropped the helpless act and looked him straight in the eye. "Dr. Thatcher, when can I be discharged?" His expression was unchanged. "We'll keep you under observation for two more days. If everything looks fine, you can go home." I took a deep breath, lowered my voice, and held his gaze. "What if… someone requested a heart transplant? How long would that patient have to stay under observation?" The moment I asked that, I could clearly see the surprise in Ezra's eyes. The air in the hospital room froze. I held my breath, terrified that he would expose my act and send me right back into the wolves' den any minute. After a few suffocating seconds had passed, the cold professionalism returned to his eyes behind his glasses. "Ms. Gardner, a heart transplant is a major organ procedure. It's governed by extremely strict medical regulations and legal requirements." His voice was emotionless, as if he were reciting a passage from a medical textbook. "It's not something a patient can simply request." I laughed bitterly to myself. Ethics, law… To Carl and Mandy, the only thing that mattered was Mia staying alive. That was the only principle they had ever cared about. Still, I couldn't let any of that show. I dug my nails into my palm until it hurt, forcing tears into my eyes. "So, Dr. Thatcher… If a patient is under your care, their safety is guaranteed, right?" I locked eyes with him and slowly voiced the fear that had been consuming me. "For example, a patient who's alive, fully conscious, and perfectly sound wouldn't end up on an operating table for no reason, with their heart cut out. Right?" Every ounce of strength I had went into asking that question. It was my final test for Ezra, the only lifeline I could think of. Ezra's gaze sharpened again, as cold and precise as a scalpel. He studied my face for a full three seconds. Then, I heard him cursing in his head, "What a nuisance. Consider me unlucky for getting dragged into the Jenkinsons' nonsense." Then, he replied calmly, "In theory, yes. You'll be safe as long as you're under my care." That was it. That was all I needed to hear! Almost instantaneously, I pressed a hand to my forehead and frowned, my voice so weak that it sounded as though I might pass out at any moment. "Dr. Thatcher, I suddenly feel so dizzy. Everything's going dark. I'm nauseous, and I think I'm going to throw up. Could my concussion be more serious than we thought?" Peeking at his expression through the gaps between my fingers, I continued pitifully, "Do you think I should stay in the hospital for a few more days? Say, at least a week? What if I get discharged too soon, and something bad happens?" Ezra watched my performance with a blank face. For just a split second, I caught a trace of resignation in his eyes. "The acting's over the top, sure, but her survival instincts are a perfect ten." He didn't answer me. Instead, he turned and walked toward the door. Before opening it, he paused without looking back and said coldly, "Without my authorization, no one can discharge you early." With that, he opened the door and walked out. I collapsed against the bed, my back soaked with cold sweat. It worked—at least for the next week. As long as I stayed in this hospital under Ezra's watch, I was safe. They wouldn't dare make a move against me out in the open. Before I could fully relax, muffled voices drifted in from the hallway. Mandy sounded clearly unhappy and anxious. "What? Another week of observation? That's rather unnecessary, isn't it, Dr. Thatcher? She'd recover much better at home. We can hire the best private doctors…" Carl chimed in impatiently. "That's right, Dr. Thatcher. Dr. Max Robertson's team has an incredibly tight schedule. They'll only be in the country for one day. Next week…" I couldn't make out the rest. Ezra must've cut him off with a few icy remarks. Still, I caught two key phrases loud and clear. I would be under another week of observation, while Dr. Robertson's team would only be here for a day. Chapter 3 It all made sense. No wonder Carl, Mandy, and Victor were so desperate to kill me. They had already lined up my executioner—a renowned surgical team flown in from abroad, available for one day only—to carve out my heart. The one week I had managed to buy myself wasn't just a reprieve. It was their deadline. Regardless, they would do everything they could to ensure I ended up on that operating table before the week was over. My temporary haven had become the countdown to my death. I had seven days to think of a way out. … Ezra's warning had kept Carl and Mandy in check, at least temporarily. I knew they would never sit back and let the week slip away, so I had to make the first move. Using my ability to hear thoughts, I began paying close attention to the moments when Victor hesitated. For example, whenever Mandy tearfully said, "Only Eloise's heart can save Mia," he would instinctively think, "But she's still a living, breathing person…" Although it was always buried a moment later with "But Mia can't die," I also discovered a trump card without looking for one. Victor often thought about a girl who had once saved his life when they were children. He called her Little Sunny. Sometimes, he would find himself humming the off-key song she used to sing. I wasn't Little Sunny, and neither was Mia. Somehow, she had stolen that credit by relying on the system's guidance. I couldn't expose the truth just yet. I had to wait for the right time to plant a seed of doubt in Victor's mind. While I waited for that opportunity, I searched for other ways to save myself. I secretly hid a pair of tweezers, memorized the nurses' shift patterns during daily rounds, and mapped out the blind spots of the hospital room's surveillance cameras. Every time I interacted with Ezra, I tried my best to send him hints. Once everything was prepared, the opportunity I had been waiting for finally arrived. Victor came to visit. He wore the same fake expression of concern as usual. "Hey, Eloise. Feeling better?" he asked, his eyes studying me carefully. "Gosh, she's pale. Please don't let anything be wrong with her heart. Mia can't wait much longer." I sneered inwardly. Outside, I appeared confused and fragile as I shook my head lightly. "My head still feels heavy. I feel like I've lost something really important. Victor, you'll protect me, won't you?" He nodded perfunctorily. "Of course. Just focus on recovering." "Dude. Women are such a hassle," he complained silently. I lowered my eyes and absentmindedly picked at the corner of my blanket. In a voice so soft that it was reminiscent of a whisper, I began humming a faint, broken melody. It was the exact tune Victor's Little Sunny had sung all those years ago. He reacted as if he had been struck by lightning. His eyes widened, and his voice rose an octave. "How do you know this song?" "No way. Only Little Sunny and I knew this. Even Mia said she didn't remember it!" I lifted my misty eyes, making myself look even more confused and helpless. "I don't know. It's like this melody keeps coming back to me. Have you heard it before, Victor?" Victor stared at me, his expression marred by shock, confusion, guilt, and conflict—a mix of everything. "Could she be… No way! Mia is Little Sunny! Mia was the one who saved me! But this tune…" Seeing that I had pushed him far enough, I deliberately let my exhaustion show and stopped speaking. His mind was already tangled beyond repair, and he practically fled the room. I knew that once the seed of doubt was planted, it would slowly take root and grow. At that moment, the hospital room door opened. Ezra walked in with his usual unreadable expression. He stopped by my bed and flipped through my medical chart. "Has this woman lost her mind? She just finished messing with her family, and now, she's going after her fiance. Does she seriously think humming a song will awaken that man's conscience? That's a whole new level of stupidity." Despite his sarcastic thoughts, his expression remained as placid as a lake. In his usual flat tone, he said, "Ms. Gardner, your methods of survival are quite… unconventional." Wait. Did Ezra know about the song? Or had he simply figured out what I was trying to do? I dropped the weak pretense and put on an indifferent look. "Dr. Thatcher, if a hospital and its doctors can't entirely guarantee a patient's safety and their family is constantly trying to kill them, what's wrong with them trying every possible way to survive?" Chapter 4 Ezra's hand froze midflip. "What's wrong?" he thought. "There's nothing wrong with that, of course." Out loud, he said, "Unconventional, but effective." "At least it's better than crying helplessly and waiting to die," he continued in his head. Without another word, he walked out of the room. Over the next two days, I could sense a drastic change in Victor. He started visiting me more often. Sometimes, he would only sit there quietly, looking like he had a million words to say, only to swallow them back. Carl came by several times to test the waters about my discharge. He even hinted at transferring me to a private recovery facility with so-called better conditions. Every time, Victor quietly stopped him. "Mr. Jenkinson, Eloise's condition is still unstable. Dr. Thatcher also said she shouldn't be moved right now. There's no need to rush." "I need to find out the truth about that tune first," he thought. "If Mia…" He even avoided everyone else and secretly slipped a note into my hand. "Stay here and don't worry about anything. I won't let anything happen to you." Just as I finally saw a glimmer of hope, Mia couldn't stay cool anymore. Through the crack in the door, I saw Victor hurry away toward her room. I then heard her thoughts as she leaned against him, crying pitifully. "System, why has Victor been visiting that bitch so frequently? Did he discover something? No. He's my mission target. No one is allowed to ruin my plan!" … By Friday night, the final deadline had arrived. Tonight was the last chance for Dr. Robertson's team to perform the transplant surgery. The door opened quietly. Victor came in. He looked exhausted, with dark circles heavy under his eyes, but an unusual excitement stood out. He hurried to my bedside, his voice trembling with emotion. "Eloise!" I kept my confused expression in place. "What is it, Victor?" He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but still couldn't suppress his excitement. "I have some good news for you!" With my mind-reading ability, I immediately caught the thoughts racing through his head. "I finally found another compatible heart donor! She may not be as perfect a match as yours, but it's enough to save Mia. We don't have to sacrifice you anymore!" My heart jolted. For a moment, it felt like it was about to leap out of my throat. "What good news?" I asked, forcing my voice to sound innocent. He eagerly lowered his voice. "I found a new treatment plan. The team of specialists has agreed to postpone the surgery." A wave of overwhelming relief crashed over me. I had gambled correctly! I covered my mouth, tears spilling from my eyes. "Really? That's wonderful! Mia is going to be okay!" The gratitude I felt in that moment was so tangible that it almost felt surreal. Victor watched me cry tears of joy. His expression was complicated, but it eventually softened into a smile. "Yeah, it's true. Get a good night's sleep. Everything will be fine tomorrow." After he left, I collapsed onto the bed, laughing and crying simultaneously. At last, I was safe. The overpowering mental fatigue finally caught up with me, and I fell into a deep sleep. I didn't know how much time had passed before I was jolted awake by a suffocating feeling. A damp towel with a chemical smell was pressed tightly over my mouth and nose. In the brief moments when I struggled for air, I saw the figure standing by the door. It was Victor. He stood there silently, watching without showing any sign of wanting to stop the people around me. His face was pale, and his eyes were empty and filled with resignation. His voice echoed faintly in my mind. "I'm sorry, Eloise. Mia can't wait any longer. The donor is too far away. Even if Mia isn't Little Sunny, I don't want to live in a world without her." Every drop of blood in my body turned cold. The battle I thought I had won turned out to be a fiasco. My body was dragged roughly out of bed and shoved into a car. I had no idea how much time had passed before the hood over my head was ripped away. The blinding surgical lights made it hard to open my eyes, but the cold sensation beneath me informed me where exactly I was—on the operating table. Carl watched from the side with an emotionless gaze. Behind the glass, Mia smiled with twisted delight. I was pinned down onto the operating table, my wrists and ankles locked in place. The moment the anesthesia mask covered my face, the despair of my demise consumed every part of me. In the final second before my consciousness faded, the operating room door was kicked open with a deafening crash. "Stop right there!"