Chapter 2

The door swung open, and a doctor strode in.

I recognized him. Matteo Skinner was one of Tyler's sleazy friends.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his face a mask of regret. "Karl's eyesight is likely gone for good."

He handed me a diagnosis report. In my last life, that same paper had sealed my fate. I'd swallowed their lies whole, never suspecting Tyler had roped him into forging it.

"Karl's too young to live in darkness forever," Matteo went on, piling on the fake sympathy. "A retinal transplant is his only shot."

Tyler jumped in, playing the devoted dad. "Money's no object. I'd sell the house, the cars, everything for him."

Matteo nodded gravely. "Problem is, the hospital is out of retinas. It could be a two- to five-year wait."

Right on cue, Karl burst into tears. "I don't wanna be blind, Mom. Save me."

His wails were gut-wrenching, designed to break any mother's heart. But I knew better this time.

"There is one option," Matteo said, his tone heavy. "A family member could donate."

"Mom, please," Karl pleaded desperately. "I can't live like this."

Tyler pulled me aside, his eyes glistening with fake tears. "He's just a kid with his whole life ahead. As parents, we'd take any pain to help him, right? A mother's love is the strongest force in the world."

I cut through his manipulative bullshit. "So, what exactly are you saying?"

He hesitated, then went for it. "Maybe you could donate your retinas to Karl. I swear, within a year, I will give everything to find a donor for you."

I stared at him, disgust curling in my gut. In my last life, I'd fallen for this sob story and signed the donation papers while Rachel waited in the next room, ready to take my eyes.

I gasped, playing the part. "If I do that, I'll be blind. How am I supposed to take care of you and Karl?"

"Don't worry, babe," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "I'll take care of you both."

That was a load of crap. In my last life, he'd let me die.

Karl grabbed my hand. "Mom, help me. I'll take care of you, I swear. Don't you trust me?"

I stayed silent, which pissed Tyler off. His mask slipped, and he snapped, "What kind of mom doesn't sacrifice for her kid? Where's your maternal instinct?"

When sweet-talking failed, he tried to guilt-trip me. I reached into my purse and pulled out a fake medical report I'd prepared that morning.

"It's not that I don't want to, but I've got viral hepatitis," I said. "I'm not eligible to donate."

"What?" Tyler's face crumpled like a cheap paper bag.

He shot a desperate look at Matteo, who gave a reluctant nod, confirming my statement.

I twisted the knife. "A father's love is just as strong, Tyler. Why don't you donate your retinas to Karl?"