Chapter 3

It was a Tuesday when my trial period reached day thirty-two.

Cassandra was moved from the general ward to the ICU.

"Without a matching donor, she might not make it through the month."

I sat outside the ICU, my clammy hands clutching the phone.

Maximus' business card was tucked inside a fold of my wallet.

I stared at the number for a long time without making the call.

My mind drifted back to the file Vivienne had handed me and what she had said in the study.

"I'm looking into your mother's case."

It was 11:00 PM when I got back to the Witt residence.

The living room lights remained lit. Vivienne lounged on the sofa, a cup of cold tea sitting in front of her.

"Was your mom transferred to the ICU?"

"How did you know?"

"I couldn't reach you on the phone, so I phoned the hospital ward."

Amid my daze, she stood up.

"I've already had someone check for a compatible donor nationwide. We should have the results in three days at the earliest."

"What about the expenses?"

"You signed a three-month contract. I'll dock it from your pay."

Her tone was flat, but her hands clutching the hem of her nightgown said otherwise.

"Vivienne."

"Yeah?"

"Why are you helping me?"

She fell deep into thought, her head hanging low. When she looked up, a faint smile played across her lips.

"Blair said that you're Troy the Tree, and trees can't fall."

Late into the night on the fortieth day of my trial period, my phone rang when I was reading Blair a bedtime story.

She was half asleep on my lap.

The screen flashed with an incoming call from St. Mary's Medical Center's ICU.

I answered the call, and the nurse sounded urgent on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Bard, your mother's infection has suddenly taken a turn for the worse after surgery. It would be best if you came in right away."

Blair startled awake when I put her down. She rubbed her eyes.

"Where are you going, Troy?"

"The hospital. My mom is sick."

"You should hurry." She nudged me. "I'll get to bed myself."

I grabbed my coat and rushed out the door.

Reaching the door, I glanced at the upper floor. The light in Vivienne's room was still on.

I didn't knock on her door.

From the backseat of the cab, I sent Vivienne a text message. "My mother took a turn for the worse. I'm heading to the hospital."

I then turned off my phone.

The red light outside the emergency room was on, and the hallway was eerily quiet.

I sat on the bench right outside, losing all track of time.

The sound of footsteps came from the end of the hallway, the click of polished shoes against the tile.

There was Maximus.

White shirt, gold-rimmed glasses, phone in hand.

He took the seat one seat away from mine.

"Troy, I heard about your mother."

I didn't look at him.

"My people are on it, and they found one compatible match."

I turned my head toward him.

Maximus smiled.

"Leave Vivienne, terminate your probation contract, and cut off all contact with her. Sign this, and the kidney will be here tomorrow."

He pulled out a paper from his breast pocket. Everything was already printed out on the sheet.

A pen was set down over the paper.

"Sign, and your mother lives. If you don't…" He glanced at the glowing red OR light.

"Your mother might not make it until morning."

Silence hung heavily in the hallway.

The monitor's beeps grew faster and more urgent.

Maximus held his phone up with the call on speaker. The caller ID read, "Dr. Reed – Kidney Transplant Center."

"Mr. Rogan?" a man's voice answered.

"Dr. Reed, does that patient still need the kidney?" Maximus asked.

"The matched kidney is ready. Are you confirming the transfer—"

Maximus terminated the call.

His gaze locked with mine.

I reached out to take the paper.

The OR doors burst open as a nurse peeked out.

"Family for Cassandra Bard? She's awake and wants to see you. Please hurry."

I dropped the paper and rushed inside.

Cassandra lay in bed, her face ashen. She was hooked up to an oxygen tube while the spikes on the heart monitor flickered across the screen.

Her eyes lit up when she saw me.

I held her hand and leaned closer to her.

"Son…"

"Don't speak, Mom. Save your energy."

"I-I heard what the man said to you."

Her voice was faint, like a candle caught in the breeze.

"He said there's a kidney… He wants you to sign…"

She gripped my fingers, her nails digging into my skin.

"I want to live, son.

"But I'd rather see you stand tall with your dignity. D-Don't lose your spine… because of me."

The lines on the cardiac monitor went completely haywire.

The nurse lunged forward to press the call button, shoving me to the side.

Doctors in white coats swarmed the bed, pumping drugs, charging paddles, barking out numbers.

"Blood pressure's dropping!"

"Clear again!"

"…We lost her."

A hand rested lightly on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

My eyes fixed on her limp hand hanging down, ground-in grime still trapped under her nails. Those were the hands that did backbreaking labor for more than two decades just to raise me.

I turned and walked out.