Her wide, tear-filled eyes scanned the depths of the water, even as her frozen tears crystallized against her skin, turning into layers of salt.
Three days later, she woke up.
Outside the hospital room, Howard had just arrived when he overheard the nurse speaking to Brad.
"Ms. Bray underwent kidney donation surgery. She’s weak and shouldn’t be exposed to the cold, or there may be complications."
Brad’s voice dropped. "But she had three kidneys, right? One was a duplicate. Donating one shouldn’t be that serious."
The nurse hesitated, then looked at him strangely.
"The scans show she only has one kidney left." Her voice was calm but firm. "Besides, I assisted in her surgery. Ms. Bray is a normal person—there was never a duplicate kidney."
Brad stiffened.
Howard was the first to react, his expression darkening, his gaze unreadable.
"What did you just say?"
The nurse didn’t waver. "She only had two kidneys. Now she has one."
For a moment, silence pressed down on them.
Brad frowned deeply, his mind racing. His first instinct was to reject the idea.
"That’s impossible. She told me—"
But then, he saw it.
The scan.
The undeniable truth.