The antiseptic smell of the hospital corridor was a stark contrast to the sterile white walls that seemed to close in on Isla. Her heart pounded in her chest, a rhythmic drumbeat of fear and desperation. The fluorescent lights above cast an unnatural glow on her already pale face, highlighting the freckles that dusted her nose like a constellation of worry.
Isla's mother, Eleanor, stood before her, her eyes brimming with tears, her hands trembling as they clutched Isla's. "Isla, you're the only one who's a match. You'll save Grace, right?" The plea in her mother's voice was a knife to Isla's heart, twisting with every word.
Isla took a step back, the sterile floor cold beneath her feet. She opened her mouth to speak, the words catching in her throat. "Mom, but I..." The sentence died on her lips, a half-truth that would change everything.
Before she could finish, Luke, her fiancé, began yelling at her. "Isla, you've lived off Grace's health all these years, and now you hesitate?" His voice echoed in the small room, bouncing off the walls and piercing Isla's ears. She flinched, the sound of his anger as foreign as the situation they found themselves in.
Grace, her fraternal twin, was the family's beloved. They were as different as night and day, Isla with her striking features and bold personality, and Grace with her soft, delicate nature. Grace had always been frail, her health a constant shadow over their family's happiness. Their parents had always said it was because Isla was too dominant in the womb, taking all the nutrients. So, the family had always sided with Grace, except for Luke.
During the years Isla was overlooked, Luke had been her solace, her comfort. She stared at him now, dazed, unable to reconcile the angry man before her with the one who had whispered "I love you" to her just yesterday. When had Luke started falling for Grace? There was no trace of love left in his eyes, only a deep-seated hatred.
Why did he hate her? Was it because she wasn't willing to give her kidney to her sister? Isla glanced over at her parents. Her mother's eyes were red from worry over Grace, her father holding her close, his gaze on Isla filled with disapproval. The father who always doted on her sister and was stern with her now stared at her with a look that said he didn't know her at all.
It hit Isla then, with a force that nearly buckled her knees. After living 23 years in this world, no one truly loved her. She was a spare part, a backup, a just-in-case. She shook her head mechanically, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mom, I want to save her, but I really can't. I can't give her my kidney..."
Life was hard, but Isla still wanted to live. There were so many places she had yet to see, so many experiences she had yet to have. She wanted to travel, to write, to fall in love without the shadow of her sister's illness hanging over her. But here she was, strapped to the operating table, her family's pressure a physical weight on her chest.
The room began to spin as the reality of the situation closed in on her. She was going to lose everything—her family, her fiancé, her own life. The walls of the hospital room seemed to press closer, the air growing thin as her breaths came in short, sharp gasps.
"Isla, please," her mother begged, the desperation in her voice cutting through the fog of Isla's panic. "Grace is all we have left."
But Isla couldn't. She couldn't give up her last kidney, her last chance at a normal life. She shook her head, the words catching in her throat. "I can't," she whispered, the words barely audible.
The room erupted in chaos. Her mother's wail of despair, her father's roar of anger, and Luke's curses filled the air. But Isla couldn't focus on them, couldn't process their pain. Her own was too great, a tidal wave that threatened to drag her under.
And then, as suddenly as the storm had started, there was silence. The room stilled, the only sound the beeping of the heart monitor, a steady rhythm that Isla knew was counting down the moments of her life.