Chapter 2

A cold smile tugged at my lips.

Provoking her how?

She was the most famous medical expert in the country. Without her say-so, I'd never get that lifesaving heart.

In my last life, when I heard she'd given away the heart we'd waited so long for, I smashed everything in the house I could get my hands on. She just quietly bought a whole new set of furniture and appliances. She even got rid of everything made of glass, afraid I'd hurt myself when I lost control.

I cried, I raged, I even got down on my knees and begged her, and all I ever got was a gentle but firm refusal.

"Honey, if you want to smash things, go ahead! If you let it out, I'll feel a little less guilty. But I can't put you ahead of everyone else. Please understand."

At first, though I resented it, I had no answer to her principles.

Then the next two hearts didn't go to poor, struggling patients. One went to her male best friend's adopted brother, the other to her male assistant's neighbor. That was when my whole world fell apart.

Worse, last week I saw Noah in the on-call room with her while she worked late, working himself into a sweat to please her. That was how he earned the heart my life depended on...

So I was the only fool here, married to the most powerful hospital director in the country and dying anyway.

But twenty years ago, she was the bright, fearless girl who fought for me in front of the whole school!

In my last life, I refused to accept my fate. I threatened to hang myself at the entrance of her hospital, and only then did she, stone-faced, get Noah's heart back for me.

What I got in return was Mom's surgery being pushed back again and again. When it was finally on the schedule and the assistant had already opened her chest as Vivian instructed, Vivian called the lead surgeon away to a meeting at the last minute, and they were an hour late.

I knelt outside the operating room, calling her, crying, pressing my forehead to the floor and begging. She just brushed it off.

"When Noah's heart failed this morning, his parents cried just like this. It still didn't stop a selfish piece of trash like you from killing him. Everything happening today is exactly what you deserve."

By the time she strolled into the operating room with the surgeon, Mom was already cold.

I never imagined the first thing I'd do with a healthy heart was mourn my mother. And since I hadn't fully recovered from the transplant, the grief was too much. I dropped dead right there at her funeral.

Now that I'd woken up again, I wouldn't cry or make a scene. Trading that for Mom's life wasn't asking too much, was it?

I obediently tilted my head up and looked straight at her.

"Then what do you want me to do?"

For a moment, she seemed to see the boy from that classroom twenty years ago, the one who'd tilted his head to look at her after she hit him with her backpack and begged him not to tell the teacher. But ever since she'd held unlimited power as director, that boy rarely crossed her mind.

She cleared her throat.

"Mom has a bad heart, and you inherited it, so if you're upset, let it out. Don't bottle it up. Don't worry, even if you make a scene, I'll make sure you get the next heart. I promise!"

A pang shot through my chest.

She only wanted me to make a scene so she'd feel less guilty. But I didn't need her cheap apology anymore.

I gave a faint smile.

"No need. Since you have to avoid favoritism, give it to someone who needs it more."

Early the next morning, for the first time in forever, there was breakfast on the table, carefully covered to keep it warm. She was already gone. All she'd left was a note, written, erased, and rewritten.

"I'm going to prep Mom for surgery. I'll be in the OR myself to oversee it today. It's cold out, so take your time getting here."

So tender. Too bad it came too late.

I didn't give it a second thought. I'd barely had a spoonful of oatmeal when my phone rang out of nowhere.

Just like in my last life, the lead surgeon sounded frantic.

"Daniel, hurry! Dr. Foster is dragging me to a meeting, but your mom is still on the operating table!"