When I woke the next morning, I went straight back to the hospital.I completed the final paperwork for the donation of my body and signed every form they placed in front of me.By the time I returned to the Moretti estate, it was already late.The house was filled with laughter.My parents, Nico, and Adrian were inside. Wedding schedules, guest lists, and seating charts covered the long table while the hotel manager confirmed arrangements for the next day.My mother sat beside Bianca, choosing champagne glasses for the reception.Her eyes moved over my bloodless face, then dropped to the hospital tape still wrapped around my wrist.For one brief second, she looked unsettled.Then her expression hardened into disgust.“Elena, are you still pretending to be terminally ill?”She still told the housekeeper to bring me something warm, then turned back to the wedding schedule. She cared enough to make sure I ate; she simply did not believe I could actually be dying.I took one sip and set i
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