Chapter 3

In my new room, the nurse set up my IV again.

But I noticed she was holding an ordinary painkiller instead.

I spoke up. "Where's my medication?"

It was the heart medication the family paid a fortune to get from the lab in the north district. The lab could only produce one dose a week.

The nurse stumbled over her words. "Ms. Vitelli, the pharmacy says your prescription has been changed."

I put a hand on the cart. "Who approved that?"

She hesitated. "The Don... Ms. Aurora said she wants the same medication you're on."

I went still.

Her type of heart failure wasn't the same as mine.

That drug did almost nothing for her. For me, it was the difference between life and death.

But my father had handed it over anyway, just to make her feel better.

I called him. It rang a long time before he picked up.

In the background, I could hear my mother comforting Aurora while Dante went over the details of her surgery with a doctor.

"Why did my medication go to Aurora?" I asked.

He brushed it off. "She's anxious before surgery and wants the same thing you're on. You'll use something else for now."

"That drug isn't right for her."

"The doctors will handle it."

"Dad, that drug is what keeps the pain under control. Do you know what my nights are like?"

He was silent for two seconds, then lowered his voice. "Francesca, don't make a scene. You've had everything handed to you by this family for years. Can't you let this one thing go?

"We have a lead on another heart. I don't want you interfering with Aurora's surgery again."

I heard Aurora calling for him in the background.

He hung up immediately.

In the end, a doctor switched me to another drug that kept my heart stable but wasn't nearly as effective for the pain.

After the injection, a crushing pain spread through my chest. Every breath sent another sharp stab through me.

That night my brother came to my room.

He looked furious. "Did you say something to Aurora?

"She's crying and trying to give the room back because she thinks you won't forgive her. We're celebrating your birthday tomorrow. Why can't you just let this go?"

I looked at him. "I didn't."

"She says you sent someone to tell her she stole your medication."

"The medication was mine."

My brother's expression darkened. "Francesca, when did you get so petty? Aurora never fought you over anything when she was healthy. Now that she has heart failure too, can't you just let her have this? Do you really want her going into surgery feeling guilty?"

Suddenly, I felt so tired.

The second Aurora cried, I was the one in the wrong. Every time.

"My parents, my brother, my room, my medication, my chance to live. I gave all of it away.

"Isn't that enough?"

His expression darkened further. "Francesca, stop acting like this family owes you something. If it weren't for us, do you think you'd have made it to 20?"

After that, the room was silent.

I looked at his familiar face and thought back to the year I turned seven.

The first time my heart gave out, he carried me on his back through three blocks of gunfire to the family's hospital.

A bullet grazed his arm, but he never let go of me.

Back then, he told me he'd give his own life to save mine if he had to.

Somewhere along the way, they'd started treating every extra day I lived as a favor they'd done me.

He seemed to realize how much his words had hurt me.

He took a red velvet box out of his pocket. Inside was the family ring I'd designed. "Whatever Aurora has, you have too."

I looked at the ring. One of the feathers on the left wing was missing. It was obviously defective.

He noticed it too and rubbed his temples, looking exhausted.

"Francesca, once Aurora is through surgery, we'll be able to focus on you. You've made it this far. You can hold on a few more days."

Hold on. Always hold on.

Because I'd endured the pain more times than anyone could count, they decided I'd always pull through.

Because I'd woken up on an operating table more times than anyone could count, they decided death was just an empty threat.

I asked slowly, "Are you really going to celebrate my birthday tomorrow?"

He paused, caught off guard by the question.

He quickly looked away. "Mom's already taking care of it. Stop giving Aurora a hard time."

After he left, I started coughing up blood.

When the doctor ran in, I was holding on to the side of the bed with blood dripping through my fingers onto the floor.

The monitor was screaming.

The doctor looked grim. "We need to contact your family. Your condition is critical, and we need someone to make medical decisions on your behalf."

He dialed Dante's number.

Once, twice... it took six calls before anyone picked up.

The doctor had barely finished describing my condition when Dante cut him off. "She was fine a few days ago. How could she get this bad so suddenly? Aurora has her pre-op tests today. We can't leave right now."

The doctor spoke quickly. "Ms. Vitelli's heart function has fallen to a dangerous level. She could go into cardiogenic shock at any moment."

Dante was quiet for a moment. "Please take care of her for now. I'll come as soon as Aurora's tests are done."

The doctor wouldn't let it go. "Mr. Vitelli, she's your sister too."

The line went quiet for a second.

Then he said, "Is she doing this on purpose? Just because Aurora got her medication, she has to pull this now?

"Is she bitter about giving Aurora her chance at the transplant?"

Lying there listening to him, I had no strength left to explain.

I shook my head slightly at the doctor, telling him to stop.

He hung up and was quiet for a while. "Ms. Vitelli, hold on a little longer. We're doing everything we can to find you another donor heart."

I wiped the blood from my nose, but it kept coming. "I will," I said, mostly to myself. "I'll hold on until they celebrate my birthday with me tomorrow."