Chapter 4 The Illness
793 Words
The moment the hospital confirmed a donor match, Vanessa's room turned into something halfway between a family reunion and a victory party.
"Vanessa, you're so blessed!" Mom said, holding her hand. "I knew God wouldn't be that cruel..."
Dad stood by the bed, peeling an apple with absurd concentration, as if this were any ordinary afternoon.
Gavin barely left Vanessa's side.
I stood in the doorway, watching it all like I didn't belong in the picture.
Eventually, Mom noticed me.
She turned, and the smile on her face dimmed a little. "Allison, don't overthink this. It's not that we're playing favorites and demanding your kidney. See? Another donor came through. That just means God is watching over this family."
Then, as if that settled everything, she added. "We care about you too."
Dad glanced at me once and said nothing.
I looked at the three of them gathered around Vanessa's bed, warm and relieved and whole.
I was the only one standing outside that circle.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
I turned and walked back out into the hall.
The private investigator had sent another update.
The investigator: He is not a suitable living kidney donor. He has mild proteinuria, which makes donation medically risky.
The investigator: Vanessa's annual work physical from six months ago shows normal kidney function across the board. No abnormal markers.
I scrolled to my contacts and made a call.
"Hello? Ms. Jarvis?"
"Doctor, I'm sorry to bother you. I wanted to ask about my sister Vanessa's condition. I need a little more detail."
The line went quiet for a few seconds.
Then his voice came back lower than before. "Ms. Jarvis... I'm no longer the attending physician on her case. I haven't been for the past week."
My grip tightened on the phone. "What?"
"That's not something I can really say outright," he said carefully. "I probably shouldn't say this, but your sister's chart looks too clean. The progression, the timing of the complications, even the way the symptoms are documented, it's all too neat. It reads like a textbook case. Real chronic renal failure doesn't usually behave that neatly."
I closed my eyes. "Thank you. That's all I needed."
When I hung up, I leaned back against the cold wall and let the silence settle around me.
By the afternoon before the surgery, the whole family had gathered at the hospital again.
I pushed open the door and walked in. "Mom. Dad. The surgery can't happen."
Dad frowned immediately. "What now?"
"The anonymous donor, Liam." I pulled up the screenshot of his medical report and held my phone out where they could see it. "He has proteinuria, protein in his urine. If he donates a kidney, the risk would be extremely high."
Dad snatched the phone out of my hand. "The doctors haven't raised any concerns, so what exactly would you know?"
I didn't look away. "There's something wrong with Vanessa's chart too."
"Allison!" Dad exploded, then hurled my phone to the floor so hard it cracked. "They found a donor, the surgery is finally happening, and this is when you decide to pull something like this? Do you want your sister dead that badly?"
Mom looked horrified. "Allison, how could you even say something like that? She's your sister..."
Vanessa's face went pale. Then her voice broke, soft and trembling and perfectly timed. "Allison... I know you've resented me for years. I know you think Mom and Dad always loved me more. But do you really hate me that much? Can't you at least let me try to survive?"
My parents rushed to her side at once, comforting her like she was the victim in all of this.
I stood there looking at the scene, and for one strange second, it almost made me laugh.
Instead, I reached into my bag and pulled out my backup phone. I opened the file I'd saved there.
It was an online purchase history.
"High doses of diuretics can wreck your electrolytes," I said, looking directly at Vanessa. "They can also tank your kidney function short-term and make your labs look like kidney failure. Do you want to explain why you ordered them?"
Vanessa's crying stopped instantly.
For the first time since I walked in, the room went truly still. Then she found her voice. "That's fake!" she said sharply. "You made it up! You forged it because you're trying to destroy me!"
I lowered the phone and looked at my parents, whose faces had gone gray, then at Gavin, who looked like he'd just realized the floor beneath him might not be solid after all.
"Whether it's fake or not," I said evenly, "a blood test will answer that fast enough. So. Are we still doing this surgery?"
- Writer
