The Winds of Lake Tahoe Never Reach Me

On my 20th birthday, I called out toward the living room out of habit, "Chester, Milford, Collin... I'm 20 today. You promised you'd celebrate my every birthday." All that responded to me was silence. On the sofa sat the plush dolls of my brothers and my childhood sweetheart. They sat there with their round eyes open, quietly keeping me company just like they had on so many nights before. Only then did I remember that they had abandoned me long ago. When I was ten, I was diagnosed with kidney disease. My eldest brother brought home a girl from the orphanage, saying that her kidney matched mine and that she was the sister who came to save my life. But before she ever made it to the operating table, she became everyone's new favorite. After chemo, I couldn't eat spicy food, yet my eldest brother cooked spicy Thai and Mexican dishes for every meal. "Lena is going to lose a kidney. What's wrong with letting her eat what she likes now?" When she took a liking to my coming-of-age necklace, my second brother took it off me on the spot and gave it to her. "She's giving you a kidney. Giving her a necklace isn't too much, right?" My childhood sweetheart promised to accompany me to my follow-up appointment, but he broke his word to take her to a concert instead. "She might not have opportunities like this in the future. You can handle one night." Even my life-saving surgery was delayed again and again because she wanted to see the ocean, go skydiving, and chase the Northern Lights. And just because I mentioned that living in a massive house by myself made me scared and that I wanted to go out and play with them, they used it as an excuse to send me away to a rental apartment. The night I moved in, I made three dolls modeled after their appearances. They accompanied me to eat, sleep, and listened to me talk through every bout of pain. Today, I used the last of my savings to buy a second-hand car. I wanted to go see Lake Tahoe, the place we once promised to visit together. And after that, I'd never look back. Chapter 1 After living in this rundown apartment for three years, I finally took a good look at it. The wall paint was peeling off patch by patch, revealing the gray-white concrete underneath. The curtains were washed stiff, their corners carrying stubborn mold stains that could never be cleaned away. The old air conditioner overhead buzzed and rattled, blowing nothing but hot air. But the worst part was the smell—a constant mix of disinfectant, painkillers, and the metallic stench of blood I coughed up, which never dissipated. Yet my family was far from poor. After our parents died in a car accident, they left behind a large inheritance. With it, my eldest brother, Chester Conway, started his own company, and my second brother, Milford Conway, became a well-known designer in the industry. Both of them were highly successful and had purchased a luxury penthouse in the city center. The adopted girl, Lena Conway, had her own study and music room, and even her dolls and merchandise had a dedicated space. When they kicked me out, Chester had simply said, "It's just for a few days. No need to rent anything too nice. Once the surgery is over, we'll come pick you up and take you home." But I waited day after day, for three whole years. Not only did they never come to take me home, but I never even got that life-saving surgery. A sharp wave of pain suddenly flared in my stomach. I rushed into the bathroom, leaning over the sink to vomit a mouthful of blood. When I came back out, the lights in the living room looked blurry. The three plush dolls were still sitting on the sofa, staring at me innocently with their round eyes. An intense wave of grievance washed over me. I snapped, "What are you looking at? Weren't you the ones who didn't want me first?" I walked over, just about to pack the dolls away, when I suddenly received a text message. Chester: [Vicky, come home in a bit. We have something to discuss.] I stared blankly at the word "home." My heart, which had already sunk to the bottom, stirred with hope once again. Maybe they still remembered me. I hurried downstairs. Feeling that the bus was too slow, I spent money luxuriously for the first time and called a cab. When I pushed open the front door of the house, the living room was filled with lively noise. Chester, Milford, and Collin Marks were all there, surrounding Lena in the center. In front of her sat four beautifully wrapped gift boxes. Chester stroked her hair, his voice soft. "Lena is 19 today. She's all grown up now." Milford smiled. "Grown up? She will still be our little princess even when she turns 80." He then teased her. "Don't you like me the most?" Before she could answer, Collin chuckled. "She definitely likes me the most. Have you forgotten how she used to follow me around as a kid?" Lena blushed at his words, and the entire living room erupted into a wave of laughter. I stood in the hallway, looking like an intruder who had mistakenly wandered into someone else's home. Chester finally noticed me, the smile on his face fading slightly. "Vicky, you're back." The laughter stopped abruptly. Lena glanced at me, picked up her gift boxes, and went back to her room. The three guys looked at me with varying degrees of awkwardness. Milford finally broke the silence. "Why are you just standing there? Come over and take a seat." Without a word, I walked over and sat on a sofa at the very edge. Chester cleared his throat. "We called you back today because we have something to discuss." He pulled out a document from beneath the coffee table and pushed it in front of me. "Take a look. If there are no issues, sign it." I looked down at the file. On the first page was a line of bold, black text: [Voluntary Waiver of Living Kidney Transplantation]. Chapter 2 It felt as though something detonated inside my brain, leaving my ears ringing violently. I looked up at Chester, but he quickly averted his gaze, looking thoroughly guilt-ridden. "Lena has been in a terrible state lately. She lacks the stamina to handle the trauma of a major operation," he stammered. "Besides, she's only 19. Her life is just beginning. If she loses a kidney now, what is she supposed to do for the rest of her future?" Before I could respond, Milford frowned. "Don't look at Chester like that. Lena is a year younger than you. Are you really going to drag her onto an operating table? She doesn't owe you anything." I turned to look at Collin. When our eyes met, he stayed silent for a while before speaking in a gentler tone than the others, but the underlying accusation cut just as deep. "Medical technology is so advanced these days, Vicky. We can just take our time and wait for a donor from the national registry. You can't afford to be this selfish." My throat tightened until it ached. They were the ones who had brought Lena home and given me hope in the first place. Yet now, they were standing in a unified front to snuff it. They had no idea that during my last solitary chemotherapy session, the oncologist had grimly informed me that the surgery couldn't wait any longer. That was fine. I silently resolved that since my brothers and my childhood sweetheart couldn't bear to let Lena suffer, I would never ask for her kidney again. I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue, using the sharp physical pain to force back the tears, and signed the document with a trembling hand. The three men visibly exhaled. Almost simultaneously, they each produced a gift bag from behind their backs. "Alright, drop the miserable face," Milford muttered. "These are the birthday presents we prepared for you. Lena got hers, and you get yours. Don't say we play favorites." I stared at the three bags piled on the table, a hot, stinging sensation flooding my eyes. That day wasn't even Lena's actual birthday. As an abandoned orphan, she didn't even have a clue about when she was born. It was Chester who had decided that since she was brought home to be my savior, she would share my birthday. In the beginning, the icing on the birthday cake only bore my name. Then, it became "Vicky and Lena." Eventually, my name was erased, leaving only Lena's. She moved into my home, took my necklace, and stole those close to me. In the end, even my birthday became hers. A sharp, breathless laugh escaped my throat. "If I hadn't signed that waiver just now... would these gifts have stayed hidden? What is this supposed to be? A violent slap to my face, followed by a cheap piece of candy?" "Vicky, don't be ungrateful!" Milford huffed. "Take them or leave them!" He reached out and snatched the bags back. His movement was so aggressive that one of the bags fell off the coffee table, spilling its contents across the floor. There was a pen, a book, and a dress with the price tags already cut off. Just moments ago, I had seen what lay in front of Lena—the latest smartphone model, a limited-edition designer handbag, and VIP floor-seat concert tickets. Seeing that I remained frozen, Milford shoved my shoulder in a fit of irritation. "Get over your pathetic attitude! Who are you throwing this tantrum for?" I stumbled backward from the force of his hand. As I staggered, his knuckles accidentally caught the edge of my hairline. A sudden, terrifying lightness swept over my head, and my wig fell directly onto the floor. My bald, sickly scalp was exposed to every eye in the room. Milford froze, and Chester's expression shifted. Collin stared at me in horror before finally finding his voice. "Vicky, you..." I didn't offer them an explanation. I simply bent down to pick up the wig, my hands shaking so badly I couldn't put it on properly. Hot tears began to crash onto the floor, but I refused to lift my face to let them see. They hadn't accompanied me to a single hospital appointment or chemotherapy session in three years. Of course, they didn't know that my hair had been shaved off two winters ago. I clumsily crammed the wig back into place, turned on my heel, and walked toward the door. Just as I reached the entrance hallway, Chester's voice cut through the stifling silence. It sounded hesitant, raw, and deeply uncomfortable. "Do you... want to stay for dinner?" I paused, staring down at my shoes with a hollow, bitter smile. This was supposed to be my home, too. Yet even eating a simple meal under this roof was now framed as an act of casual hospitality. I swallowed the rising sob and the familiar, metallic tang of blood in my throat. "No need." I shook my head. Chapter 3 On the bus ride back, I scrolled past a new update on Lena's social media feed. The caption read: [The annoying person finally left! Now I can finally enjoy my birthday!] Attached was a photo of Chester, Milford, and Collin gathered around the dining table. The spread was loaded with spicy buffalo wings, cheesy chili nachos, and, among others, Nashville hot chicken. Every dish was something the doctor had strictly forbidden me from touching after my chemotherapy sessions. Luckily, I hadn't stayed. Otherwise, it would have only been another exercise in self-humiliation. Out of that entire table of food, the only thing I would have been allowed to swallow was some corn. Back at my apartment, I cooked myself a simple plate of pasta. For the first time, I didn't set out the three plush dolls to keep me company. I ate my birthday meal completely alone. I ate until I was drenched in sweat, with tears and perspiration blurring my vision. ... The next day, I went to my part-time shift at the Boba shop as usual. Before leaving for Lake Tahoe, I needed to make sure the hospital would prescribe me enough painkillers to get me through the long drive. I was still a little short on funds, but once I collected my wages for the last few days, it would be just enough. The shop was running an outdoor promotion in front of the shopping mall that day. My assignment was to wear a heavy mascot costume and hand out flyers. By midday, the sun was brutal. The thick material of the suit trapped the heat like an oven, suffocating me. Unable to endure it any longer, I pulled the massive headpiece off and crouched down in a shaded corner to gulp down some water. A familiar voice suddenly drifted over from behind me. "Vicky?" My hands froze, and I slowly turned my head. Chester, Milford, Collin, and Lena were standing just a short distance away. The three men were laden with designer shopping bags. There was no need to guess who they were for. Chester took in my sweat-drenched appearance, but his eyes held no pity or concern. There was only profound embarrassment and simmering anger. "Didn't I give you an allowance?" he demanded, his voice tight with irritation. "What are you doing wearing a ridiculous outfit like this to pass out flyers on the street? "Are you doing this on purpose to make people think we mistreat a sick girl? If a client from my company spots you, what do you think happens to my corporate reputation?" "You give me $2,000 a month. The rent alone is $800," I retorted, tightening my grip on the water bottle. "The remaining money isn't even enough to cover my basic prescriptions. If I don't work part-time, how am I supposed to stay alive?" Milford frowned, stepping forward to give me a hard shove. "You've got some nerve! How dare you talk back to Chester like that?" Collin stood beside Lena, a complicated expression flitting across his features. Ultimately, he adopted his usual lecturing tone. "Vicky, you just spend money too recklessly. Lena doesn't even receive an allowance every month, and you don't hear her complaining, do you?" "That's right," Milford snorted. "If you need money for medicine, just ask. Chester wouldn't say no. You're probably squandering your cash on useless things and feel too ashamed to ask for more!" I opened my mouth, but the words withered on my tongue. Lena didn't need an allowance because she carried Chester's secondary credit card, racking up five-figure bills every month. Meanwhile, even when I begged for my meager $2,000, I had to follow up repeatedly, enduring delays until the end of the month before it was sent to me like a piece of casual charity. If I asked for more, would they give it to me? I knew deep down that arguing was pointless. It would only invite a fresh barrage of criticisms labeling me as ungrateful and unreasonable. I kept my face cold, picking up the headpiece. "Just leave. Don't interfere with my job." I brought the heavy mascot head down over my face, plunging my vision into instant darkness. But in the next instant, a violent force slammed into my back. "You're not allowed to speak to my brothers like that!" Lena snapped. The headpiece was so thick that even a light bump hurt. With that strong push, I stumbled forward, and my forehead slammed into the hard shell inside the costume. Everything went black for a moment. I leaned against the wall, struggling to recover. Not a soul came over to check if I was injured. Chester grabbed Lena's hand, asking anxiously, "Are you all right?" Milford frowned. "She's wearing something so thick. Why did you push her? What if you hurt yourself?" Collin gently comforted her. "Look at you, already learning how to defend your family." While they were occupied with comforting her, I staggered away on uneven feet. My face was soaked, though I could no longer tell if it was sweat or tears. By the time my shift concluded that evening, a massive, painful welt had risen across my forehead. The only silver lining was that it was payday. I returned to my rental apartment carrying the $3,000 in cash wages I had just earned. I wrapped the bills meticulously in three layers of plastic film. Early the next morning, I went to the hospital and handed the cash to the cashier. But when she looked up, her eyes hardened into an icy glare. "Where did you get this, young lady?" she demanded. I blinked, utterly confused. She slammed the stack of bills against the counter. "You look clean and put-together. Why are you doing this? Tell me, where did you get all these fake bills?" Chapter 4 My instinct was to argue, but the screech of the bill validator shattered any room I had left for self-delusion. I didn't even remember how I managed to walk out of the hospital. All I knew was that my stomach was twisting into agonizing knots, and a rush of blood surged violently up my throat. I forced it back down, swallowing the agony, and clutched the stack of fake bills as I marched back to the Boba shop. Without missing a beat, I slammed the bills onto the counter. "Why did you trick me?" I demanded. "This is fraud. I'm calling the police!" The shop owner was busy with paperwork and barely lifted an eyelid. "Why are you yelling at me? I didn't prepare that money. Your brother came by yesterday and claimed your paycheck. "He gave me these fake bills instead. Said it was to teach you a lesson—to show you that making money isn't easy." A violent buzzing filled my brain. Numb and shivering, I dragged myself onto a bus. The moment I walked through the front door, I demanded sharply, "Did you take my wages?" Milford didn't look guilty at all. Instead, a smug, self-satisfied grin spread across his face. "Now you know how hard it is to earn money, huh? Remember this: Chester and I are the ones who care about you the most," he said. "When you're in trouble, you should come home. If that doesn't work, you can always go to Collin." I shook with rage, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. Had I not gone to them? Had I not begged? When the post-chemo agony left me so paralyzed I couldn't even roll out of bed, I had dialed Chester's number, wept into the receiver, and begged him to come stay with me for a while. "Lena is in a bad mood today," he had only said. "I can't leave her. You've been sick for so many years anyway. Just tough it out." When my medical bills piled up and the hospital kept calling for payment, I stood in the hallway clutching the invoice and texted Milford. His reply came hours later: [Asking for money again? Can you stop using your illness as an excuse? Don't we wire your living expenses every month?] One night, when my fever hit 104 degrees, and there wasn't even hot water in my apartment, I called Collin in a delirium. "Lena had a nightmare," he had said. "I need to stay with her tonight. Just take some fever reducers yourself." In all those moments, had any of them helped me? Unable to hold back anymore, I yelled, "Give me my money back! That was my paycheck! I earned it with my own hands!" Dissatisfied, he strode over, grabbed my arm, and started pushing me toward the door. "Money! That's all you care about the moment you walk in! "You've been sick for so many years and have cost this family so much money! Forget $3,000. We've spent way more than $30,000 on keeping you alive!" In the middle of the struggle, my chest suddenly tightened. The metallic taste I had forced down earlier surged up again. This time, I couldn't stop it. A heavy splatter of dark, visceral blood erupted from my lips, spraying across the leather of Lena's shoes just as she stepped through the front door. Chester and Milford recoiled, their faces shifting in shock. Collin took a frantic step toward me. "Vicky, you..." But before he could reach me, Lena started whining, "Vicky, even if you're desperate for cash, you don't have to use theatrical blood packs to stage a show. Doing things like this is only going to worry my brothers and Collin unnecessarily." She paused, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Milford bought me this pair of shoes just yesterday. They cost $5,000. I've only worn them once..." The flicker of panic that had briefly surfaced in the three men's eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, unifying disgust. "Vicky, when did you become like this?" Collin frowned in deep disappointment. "You'd do something like this for money?" Milford crouched down and used a tissue to wipe Lena's shoes. "Don't cry. It's just a pair of shoes. I'll buy you new ones." Lena sniffled, nodding with an air of fragile innocence. Meanwhile, I remained slumped against the entryway wall, the agony inside my abdomen so blinding I could barely stand. The physical pain and the pain in my heart coiled together, threatening to tear me apart. I had worked myself to the bone, standing beneath a merciless, blistering sun for eight hours a day inside a suffocating mascot suit. It took me 30 agonizing days to earn $3,000. And that wasn't even enough to buy Lena a pair of shoes. Chester walked up to me. But instead of asking if I was in pain, he pulled out two $100 bills from his wallet and callously shoved them into my hand. "Drop the theater. Bringing blood into the household brings terrible luck," he spat, his voice dripping with aversion. "You wanted cash, right? Take it and get out of our sight." The bills felt thin against my palm, and the edges cut deeper than a razor blade. I stared down at the paper for a long time, then slowly curled my fingers around it and staggered blindly out of the house. I didn't go back to my apartment. Instead, I navigated the streets until I reached a pawn shop in the southern district of the city. Around my neck was a pendant I had worn for ten years. It was a collective gift from Chester, Milford, and Collin the year my diagnosis was first confirmed. Back then, they had placed it around my neck, swearing to protect me and keep me alive with everything. In the years that followed, they gave Lena whatever she wanted. The only thing she had begged for many times but never received was this pendant. Because of that one boundary, I had spent years foolishly believing that somewhere deep within their hearts, they still cared about me. So, when I moved out of the house, I took nothing else with me. Even when I was too poor to eat or too sick to afford medicine, I had never sold it. Now I simply unclasped the chain and placed it flat onto the glass counter. The shopkeeper weighed the silver piece in his palm, offering an insultingly meager sum, but I didn't bargain. Once the cash was secured, I walked into the hospital pharmacy and purchased my maximum allowance of painkillers. I ignored the attending oncologist's demands for immediate inpatient admission, turned on my heels and walked out. At three in the afternoon, I picked up the second-hand car I had reserved. As the car broke past the city limits, an ominous shelf of dark clouds pressed down against the horizon. I stared straight at the open road stretching out before me, steadily pressed my foot down onto the accelerator, and drove due west. I never looked back.