Chapter 3

The third day after I moved into the shared room, I received a call from the hospital billing department. They told me there wasn't enough money left in my hospital account.

I didn't know how to react because Dad had always kept funds in the account he set up for me.

After checking, they informed me that the funds had been transferred out yesterday afternoon.

I called Dad, and he picked up after it rang for a long time.

On the other end of the line, they were discussing the price of imported anti-rejection medication, with Michelle occasionally interjecting. Dad patiently answered her questions whenever she asked.

Only after they finished speaking did Dad remember I was still on the line.

"The money in my hospital account is gone."

Dad didn't think too much of it. "The medication Michelle needs after surgery isn't covered by medical insurance, so I've diverted some funds to cover it. You're only undergoing conservative treatment right now. It won't cost much."

I clenched the payment slip in my hand. "But the doctor said I needed to be admitted to the ICU."

Dad was silent for a few seconds. Impatience was evident in his voice when he spoke again. "Lia, money doesn't grow on trees. Do you have any idea how much we've spent treating you all these years? This is Michelle's only chance of survival. Can't you be a little more understanding?"

I wanted to tell Dad this was my only chance, too, but Michelle suddenly called out to him. Dad immediately hung up.

In the end, the doctor arranged for me to defer payment.

That evening, Dante came to my room, throwing a velvet box onto the bed. "Did you say something to Michelle about the bracelet?"

I opened it and saw that the bracelet had been broken in two.

"After finding out that this was what you wanted, she insisted on taking it off to give it to you and accidentally broke it in the process."

Dante sounded as if he were reprimanding an immature child. "Lia, she's about to undergo surgery. Do you really have to make her feel guilty about this?"

I looked at him, a deep exhaustion suddenly washing over me. Whenever Michelle cried, I was always the one who ended up being in the wrong.

I pushed the box back toward him. "Take it away. I don't want it."

Dante's face darkened. "Why are you throwing a tantrum again? Michelle never competed with you for anything when she was healthy. Now that she's sick, can't you give her some leeway?"

I laughed in disbelief. "I gave her my parents, you, the hospital room, the medical funds, and even the chance to live. Is that still not enough?"

Dante's face hardened as several patients nearby turned to look.

He lowered his voice. "Don't make it sound as though we have failed you. Without our help all these years, you wouldn't have lived to be 24 years old."

The room fell silent.

I looked at his face as memories of my condition first flaring up when I was seven years old resurfaced in my mind. Dante had carried me on his back, running all the way to the hospital.

I remembered crying and promising never to trouble him again, but he scolded me, his eyes red. "You're my sister. You'll never be a burden in my eyes."

But at some point, every extra day I lived came to feel like a favor granted to me by my family.

Dante seemed to realize he had been too harsh. He turned his face away, his voice softening. "Once Michelle's surgery is over, we will have time to look after you. You've held on for so many years. A few more days won't make a difference."

Again, it was about holding on.

Just because I had held on countless times, they came to believe that I could never be brought down. Just because I had survived countless surgeries, they believed that death was just an empty threat.

After Dante left, I threw the bracelet into the trash can.

…

The next day, when the nurse came to draw my blood, she noticed that I was coughing up blood. The doctor insisted on contacting my family, so I gave them Dante's number.

The first time, Dante didn't pick up. The second time, he hung up on them. He only answered on the sixth call.

Dante interrupted the doctor just as he finished explaining my condition, "She was perfectly fine just a few days ago. How could her condition suddenly deteriorate? Michelle is undergoing preoperative tests today. We can't leave her."

The doctor's voice shook with anger. "Lia's heart is dangerously weak. She could go into cardiac arrest at any moment!"

Dante fell silent. "Please take care of her for now. I'll head over as soon as Michelle's tests are over."

I waited until 1:00 am, when Dante finally came. But he wasn't here to see me. He took the silver lucky charm from my cabinet, something Grandma had left me before she passed away.

He said he wanted to borrow it for Michelle's surgery the next day.

I reached out and pressed my hand down on the box. "Grandma left this to me."

Dante was stunned. He didn't expect that I, who had already conceded on every other matter, would refuse. He explained, "It's just for a few days."

"No."

"Lia!" His voice woke everyone up, but I didn't loosen my grip.

Dante pried my fingers away one by one and took it from me. "Michelle is about to undergo surgery. Can't you just give her something this small? I'll give it back to you after her surgery is over."

The moment he closed the lid, my nail split, and blood trickled down my palm.

Dante noticed it, but he only paused momentarily before leaving with what he came here for.