The Kidney That Never Came
My daughter Stella was dying—kidneys shot, barely hanging on.
She needed a transplant. Fast.
But my wife, Kylie—the hospital director—stole the donor kidney meant for Stella and handed it off to her old flame's kid instead.
That boy lived. They celebrated. Played happy family while my daughter was bleeding out hope.
That same day, I called Kylie. Told her Stella didn't have much time.
All she said was, "That ungrateful brat's faking it again? Lying? If she wants to die, let her."
Stella didn't make it. Her body gave out in the worst way.
And when Kylie finally saw her—really saw her—she broke.