I Gave Up My Liver Transplant, The Whole Family Went Crazy

The room fell silent. Henry studied me, looking for some sign that it was a trick.

When I showed no reaction, he asked, "Are you serious?"

I nodded. "I am."

My mother, Evelyn Hale, pushed open the door. She had probably been eavesdropping for a while. Her eyes were red, but relief had softened her expression.

"Livia, I knew you were a good girl."

She reached out to hug me. I flinched away, and she drew back awkwardly.

My father, Richard Hale, stepped in to spare her embarrassment. "Now that you've decided, you can't change your mind. The doctors say Camilla can't wait. You should sign the consent form today."

They had prepared for this long before I agreed.

They placed a form for voluntary withdrawal from the liver transplant list in front of me. The word voluntary almost made me laugh.

For months, they had taken turns wearing me down. Mom said Camilla was still young and that I should stop being selfish and put my older sister first.

Dad said tearing the family apart over a transplant would humiliate them if word got out.

Henry stopped paying my medical bills and defended Camilla online, claiming I had stolen her chance to live.

Now that I had surrendered, they couldn't get my signature fast enough.

They had forgotten that I was kidnapped in Camilla's place and tortured inside a water tank.

I had been so young that the ordeal left me permanently frail. That was why I was always sick.

Once I signed the last page, Henry's stern expression finally eased. "That's my good little sister."

He collected the documents. "After Camilla's surgery, I'll find you a better hospital."

I asked calmly, "What if I don't live that long?"

Henry froze. Before he could answer, Camilla's sobs came through his phone.

"Henry, I feel awful."

His face changed. He hurried out, with our parents close behind. Not one of them looked at me.

None of them heard the monitor in my room start screaming.

By the time the doctors rushed in, I had curled into a ball from the pain.

When the resuscitation was finally over, my attending physician, Dr. Marcus Reed, tried to reassure me, but his face was grim. "Ms. Hale, your liver function is worse than Camilla's. This organ was allocated to you because your condition is more critical. If you give it up, no one can promise another will become available."

I gave him a bitter smile. "How long do I have?"

Dr. Reed sighed. "At best, six weeks."

Cheers erupted outside. Mom's delighted voice carried through the door. "Camilla, you're saved. Your sister agreed to give you the liver."

I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes in despair.

It was my birthday. They had all forgotten, yet each of them had received exactly what they wanted most.

My phone buzzed. Camilla had sent me a photo.

She sat surrounded by our family, a triumphant smile on her bloodless face.

"Thank you, Livia, for giving me the chance to live."