I died in my own cold home.
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting its warmth onto the sheets.
Though the sunlight was close at hand, I couldn't grasp its fleeting warmth, no matter how hard I tried.
Sloane clasped my bony hand, struggling to find words.
But my life was slipping away like sand through an hourglass.
"I'm sorry... I won't be able to stay with you anymore."
I couldn't bear leaving this world!
I couldn't bear leaving my son, born after ten months of carrying him.
I couldn't bear leaving Sloane, who had grown up alongside me since childhood!
If only my kidney hadn't been taken by my husband to please his first love, I wouldn't have to die.
I still remember the words my husband said to me on the day he signed the papers.
"The kidney will be available later, but let's give this one to Sylvia for now.
"Even though she said this wasn't right, you understand, don't you? After all, Sylvia is so gravely ill!"
In front of me, he signed the waiver, transferring the kidney that was meant for me to his first love.
A metallic taste of blood filled my throat.
A wave of sorrow surged through my heart, suffocating me.
You only knew Sylvia Clark’s critical condition, but you never considered that your wife might die from losing this kidney.
That kidney was mine!
What gave you the right to give it to someone else?
After losing that kidney, I endured another full week as my condition worsened steadily.
Yet during that time, my husband never visited me once.
My vision gradually blurred, and I could only sense the figures before me, one large and one small.
Summoning my last bit of strength, I placed my son's hand in Sloane's palm.
I had so much left to say.
But words failed me, and tears flowed uncontrollably.
Sloane knelt by my bed, sobbing openly, while my son cried beside her.
Allen was still so young, needing his mother's care, yet he grew up quickly to care for me.
I'm sorry, son. I didn't fulfill my duties as a mother.
I entered this world alone, only to close my eyes with bitterness toward my husband.
Sloane took care of my affairs after I passed. As she carried my urn back, she happened to encounter Benjamin helping Sylvia, who was leaning on a cane, out the door. The two appeared close, like a newlywed couple in perfect harmony.
Sloane's eyes blazed with anger. With tears still fresh on her cheeks, she lunged at Benjamin and gripped his neck tightly.
"Benjamin Lennox, you're heartless! You took Mirabelle's life from me!"
Caught off guard, Benjamin received a blow from Sloane. The next moment, he forcefully kicked her to the roadside. As Sloane fell, she clutched the urn protectively.
Benjamin's kick was strong, leaving Sloane bruised where she landed. Yet her first thought was to check if the urn had been harmed.
My heart ached for Sloane. I wanted to help her up, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't touch her. Yes, I was already dead; the dead have no physical form.
Benjamin looked at Sloane with disgust. "What are you causing a scene for? If there was another suitable kidney, I would give it to her."
"She knew Sylvia needed that kidney more. Why did she come to you? You two are really birds of a feather!"
Tears streamed down Sloane's face. "Mirabelle is gone. It's no longer needed, it will never be used!"