“Fredrinn,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. It still came out weak. “Give her more money. I don’t care how much. Just pay her. Please. Don’t be her boyfriend. Just tell her to do it now.”
Silence.
I could hear him breathing on the other end. Slow. Careful.
Then he said quietly, “Lesley… we already owe her a lot. I don’t want to pressure her. She’s helping you. We should be grateful.”
Something snapped in my chest. “Owe her? One hundred million isn’t enough? Or is there something else you owe her?”
He didn’t answer. Then I heard her voice behind him. Soft. Sweet. Fake as hell.
“Fredrinn, I burned my hand! Ow!" she said, dragging the words. “It hurts. Come here! Please!"
His tone changed instantly. “I’ll call you later,” he said fast. “She needs me.”
Then the call ended.
Just like that.
I stared at my phone until it went black. It felt like something inside me finally caved in. Like I’d been hollowed out and there was nothing left to protect.
I turned my head and looked at the doctor.
“How long,” I asked, barely louder than air, “if I don’t get the transplant?”
He sighed. Didn’t even try to sugarcoat it.