They Found Me Just to Take My Heart

On my eighteenth birthday, a billionaire tracked me down and told me I was his long-lost daughter. He rented out an entire private hospital and flew in the world's top surgeons, all for one reason: to find a heart donor match for his sick son. When the lab results confirmed a "flawless match," my so-called mother sobbed and threw her arms around me. "Thank God, sweetheart! Your brother is saved!" Yet on the night before the surgery, she handed me a cup of warm milk with dead eyes. "Drink it," she whispered coldly. "I'll announce that you died from unexpected surgical complications. A girl from the slums doesn't belong in our family anyway. Your heart is the only reason you were brought here." Behind her, Chloe—the fake heiress who took my place—smirked in triumph. I looked at them both, calm as stone, and drank every last drop. Mother, there is one thing you don't know. My heart has been failing for years. The doctors gave me less than three months to live. I stared at Chloe's smug grin and swallowed the warm milk down to the dregs. It tasted faintly of crushed pills—a nauseating, bitter undertone. I didn't flinch. Instead, I forced a fragile, grateful smile onto my face. "Thank you, Mom." She snatched the glass back with satisfied cruelty. When she turned away, she didn't even bother hiding the disgust in her eyes. "Good. Know your place." Chloe, the fake daughter who stole eighteen years of my life, hooked her arm around Victoria's. "See, Mom? I told you she'd do the right thing. She'd do anything for Julian." The two of them played their sick duet right in front of me, like actors performing a tragedy for an audience of one. I just smiled politely, nodding along. Once they left, I lay back against the stark white hospital bed, feeling the quiet shifts inside my body. I didn't dare fall asleep. Not yet. I was still waiting. I was waiting for my biological father—Richard Hayes, CEO of Hayes Enterprises—to come in for his final check. Sure enough, half an hour later, the door creaked open. Richard walked in. He wore a sharply tailored three-piece suit, his expression cold and detached. He wasn't visiting his flesh and blood; he was inspecting expensive property he had just acquired. Right behind him was Dr. White, the world-renowned cardiothoracic surgeon. "Is she asleep?" Dr. White checked my pupils and took my pulse, nodding respectfully. "Don't worry, Mr. Hayes. The sedative dosage is precise. She will sleep straight through until surgery. She won't feel a thing." "Good." Richard's voice held zero warmth. "Remember, Dr. White. This surgery cannot fail. My son's life is worth more than anything in this world." Dr. White bowed slightly. "Her heart is an unprecedented, flawless match. A true miracle from God. Julian will make a complete recovery in no time." I almost laughed out loud. My dear father. You moved heaven and earth to drag me out of that forgotten town, not to make amends, but to harvest my organs for your precious golden boy. I was never a daughter to you. I was just a compatible spare part. To keep me compliant, they lied. They told me it was just basic bloodwork and genetic matching. When the results came back, my biological mother, Victoria, wept into my shoulder. Except she wasn't crying for me. She kept murmuring, "Julian is saved." From start to finish, not a single person ever asked if I was willing to die for him. To them, my consent didn't matter. My entire existence wasn't worth as much as the organ beating in my chest. Richard lingered for a moment, making sure I wouldn't suddenly wake up. Then, he walked out without looking back. The moment the heavy door clicked shut, my eyes snapped open. In the dark room, tears spilled silently down my cheeks. Mom, you really gave me a potent sedative. What you didn't know was that before you brought it in, I had already swallowed an entire vial of an odorless, colorless liquid. A powerful myocardial stimulant. It forces the heart into an artificial state of extreme vitality and peak strength for a brief window. But that borrowed vitality comes with a fatal price. Once taken, the heart only lasts twelve hours. After twelve hours, it crashes into irreversible, rapid necrosis and total failure. That drugged milk was simply the cue I had calculated to kick off the grand finale. You want my heart? Fine. Take it. I won't just give it to you—I will personally deliver it right into your precious boy's chest. I want you to watch your desperate hope ignite, only to shatter into ash right before your eyes.Early the next morning, while still pretending to be unconscious, nurses wheeled me into the OR. The harsh surgical lights glared overhead. Metallic instruments clinked in the cold, sterile air. Through the observation glass, I caught a blurry glimpse of the family waiting outside. Victoria clutched a handkerchief to her mouth, eyes rimmed in red, playing the devoted, grieving mother to perfection. Chloe leaned against her, a barely suppressed smirk playing on her lips. Dr. White pulled on his sterile mask, grabbed the scalpel, and gave Richard a confident thumbs-up through the glass. "Begin general anesthesia." Cold liquid surged through my IV. I gave that loving family one last glance. Then, my mind plunged into total darkness. ... "It's a success! The transplant was a complete success!" Sometime later, a chorus of ecstatic cheers woke my consciousness. Of course, I didn't actually wake up. My body had already been officially logged: Died of massive intraoperative hemorrhage; resuscitation failed. Right now, "I" was merely a lingering, detached soul hovering above. I saw Julian wheeled out of the operating room. The monitors beeped with steady, perfect vitals. Victoria rushed forward the second she saw her son. "Julian! My baby! You're back!" Even Richard allowed a rare smile to break across his stern face. Holding back tears, he gripped Dr. White's shoulder. "Thank you, Doctor." Chloe jumped up and down in excitement. "Yes! Julian is safe!" They huddled around Julian, celebrating his rebirth. Meanwhile, in the adjacent operating room, my discarded corpse was slowly turning to ice. Nobody cared. When Victoria walked past the gurney carrying my body, she turned her head away in disgust, as if glancing at me would bring a curse upon her family. "Mom, look. What is that?" Chloe suddenly pointed at the bedside table in my empty recovery room. An envelope sat there. It was my handwriting. Addressed to: Mom and Dad. Frowning in annoyance, Victoria snatched the envelope and tore it open. Richard and Chloe leaned in, curious. Inside were just a few short lines: [Dad, Mom, thank you for finding me. Thank you for giving me the chance to save my brother. The truth is, back in the countryside, the doctors already diagnosed me with terminal heart failure. They told me I had less than three months to live. To trade this dying, useless heart for my brother's lifelong health is the greatest honor of my life. Goodbye. I love you both.] The letter slipped from Victoria's fingers, fluttering to the floor. Her face drained of all color. Her lips trembled violently, unable to form a single word. Richard snatched the paper off the ground, read it three times, and ripped it to shreds in a blind fury. "Nonsense! That's impossible! Dr. White swore this heart was in peak condition!" He roared like a wounded animal clinging to a thread of denial. "Get White in here! Now!" Right then, a shrill, deafening alarm shrieked from Julian's room! Beep—beep—BEEEEEEEP— The steady rhythm on the monitor collapsed into a jagged drop, then flattened into a piercing, endless line. A young nurse tumbled out of the room, shaking uncontrollably. "Mr. Hayes! Code blue!" "Your son... he has no pulse!"The world went mute. The hallway, overflowing with joy seconds ago, dropped into dead silence. Richard shoved the nurse aside and stormed into the room. My beloved mother collapsed to the floor, her eyes hollow. "No... this can't be happening... the surgery worked..." Inside, Dr. White and his team were frantically performing chest compressions. "Epinephrine! Now!" "Charge the paddles to two hundred!" "No rhythm! The tissue is failing at an impossible rate! This defies all medical science!" Dr. White screamed in sheer panic. How could a heart that looked like a masterpiece hours ago shrivel up like a dried sponge, decaying before their very eyes? Richard's eyes burned bloodshot. He grabbed Dr. White by the collar. "You told me it was perfect! Why is this happening?!" "I don't know!" Dr. White shook his head, tears of frustration spilling over. "It must be an acute, hyper-rejection crisis! Yes! A massive rejection response! It's not my fault!" "Rejection?!" Richard went completely feral. He threw Dr. White to the floor. "Then swap it out again! Take mine!" Dr. White shook his head in absolute despair. "It's too late, Mr. Hayes! The donor organ is rotting inside him. The necrotic toxins have flooded his bloodstream, destroying his entire system..." "Useless trash!" Richard slammed his fist into the wall, blood smearing across his cracked knuckles. To plummet from the peak of triumph straight into the abyss—shattered into dust. Must feel wonderful, right? I floated in the air above, watching their horror show with cold detachment. A thrilling rush of vengeance filled my soul. Dad. Mom. Little brother. Your family is finally reunited in the most poetic way possible. Half an hour later, the resuscitation ended. Exhausted, Dr. White pulled off his mask and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hayes. We did everything we could." Julian Hayes, the sole male heir of the Hayes dynasty, was dead. Killed by the heart I gave him "out of pure love." Victoria let out a bloodcurdling scream and fainted. Richard aged ten years in a matter of seconds. His gaze cut through the crowd and landed on the metal gurney covered in a white sheet. My lifeless body rested there in silence. For the first time, something other than greed flickered in his eyes. Was it confusion? Guilt? Or terror? Whatever it was, I saw no true remorse. He shuffled over and pulled the sheet back. My thin, pale face stared blankly up at the ceiling. "Heart failure... less than three months to live..." He whispered the words from my letter over and over, trying to brainwash himself, trying to wipe his conscience clean. "Right... she was dying anyway. She chose this... none of this is my fault..." He desperately sought a way out. But reality wasn't about to give him peace. You reap what you sow. Dr. White suddenly charged back toward Richard, clutching a lab printout, his eyes wide with frantic realization. "No! Wait!" Dr. White ran up to Richard, shoving the paper into his face. "Look at this! This is her pre-op blood panel! That cellular vitality... before the transplant, her heart was stronger than an Olympic athlete's! It was never diseased!" Richard froze. He grabbed the doctor's shoulders. "What did you just say?" "I'm saying," Dr. White stammered, "her heart was completely healthy! Pristine! The letter was a lie!" He paused, a terrifying thought dawning on him. "Unless... she did this on purpose!" "She must have taken an experimental stimulant to simulate peak cardiac function, deceiving all of us!" Dr. White spoke faster and faster, desperate to clear his own name. "Once the drug wore off, the organ suffered catastrophic collapse! Dear God... this wasn't an accident! This was a calculated murder-suicide!" The word murder detonated in Richard's head like a bomb. His vision blurred. He stumbled back. It wasn't fate. It wasn't bad luck. It was her. The daughter he had treated like livestock had gambled her own life to assassinate his only son. She hated them so deeply that she turned her own beating heart into a lethal weapon. A choked rattle escaped Richard's throat. The veins in his eyes burst with blood. He finally understood. He wasn't the hunter. He and his family were nothing more than prey trapped in a cage, waiting for execution. "Aaargh!" He let out an agonizing roar, lunged at my gurney, and shook my cold body violently. "Why?! Why would you do this?! I was your father!" I really wanted to laugh. Father? Where were you during the eighteen years I spent suffering in neglect? Where were you when you turned me into a walking organ bank? And now you dare ask me why? How pathetic. Right then, Chloe screamed from the corner. "D-Dad... your phone... it's buzzing..." Numbly, Richard pulled his phone from his pocket. On the screen was a new email notification. Sender: Your Abandoned Daughter. Subject line: Dad, my final thank-you gift for you. Trembling violently, Richard tapped the screen. It was a single video file. He pressed play. My face filled the screen. I had recorded it the night before the surgery. In the video, I wore a faded hospital gown. My face was pale, but my eyes were terrifyingly calm. "Dad. Mom. When you watch this, I imagine Julian has already received my little 'gift.'" I smiled, showing my clean white teeth. To them, that smile looked like a demon crawling out of hell. "You must be wondering why I hate you so much." "After all, you gave me life, didn't you?" My voice was soft, but every single syllable stabbed like a poisoned needle. "Don't worry. I'll give you your answer... right now."