I Thought My Life Could Buy Their Love
Fuzzy Melissa · Completed · 8.1k Words
Introduction
A blizzard had swallowed the entire town, and I was locked in an unheated attic.
My broken leg had turned black with infection. Every breath felt like swallowing broken glass. I tore four fingernails from their beds, but I still couldn’t claw my way through the door.
With the last of my strength, I held my old iPad against the frost-covered window.
On the screen, my twin sister, Lily, stood beneath the Alps, rosy-cheeked and healthy, raising a crystal glass. Our parents stood on either side of her.
My life was beating inside her chest.
The caption read: [Just the three of us. Finally, some peace.]
A single tear slipped into my hair.
I closed my eyes.
I had traded my life for hers.
Now it was time for them to learn how much that life had cost.
Chapter 1
I died on the fourth night after Thanksgiving.
A blizzard had swallowed the entire town, and I was locked in an unheated attic.
My broken leg had turned black with infection. Every breath felt like swallowing broken glass. I tore four fingernails from their beds, but I still couldn't claw my way through the door.
With the last of my strength, I held my old iPad against the frost-covered window.
On the screen, my twin sister, Lily, stood beneath the Alps, rosy-cheeked and healthy, raising a crystal glass. Our parents stood on either side of her.
My life was beating inside her chest.
The caption read: [Just the three of us. Finally, some peace.]
A single tear slipped into my hair.
I closed my eyes.
I had traded my life for hers.
Now it was time for them to learn how much that life had cost.
My tooth landed in the cranberry sauce.
For a moment, no one noticed.
Dad was carving the turkey. Mom stood behind Lily, fastening a diamond necklace around her throat. My older brother, Noah, was filming everything on his phone.
Lily touched the diamonds and laughed.
She looked beautiful. More importantly, she looked healthy.
Three weeks ago, my twin sister had needed help walking to the bathroom.
Her heart was failing. Her kidneys were shutting down. The doctors had told us to prepare for the worst.
Tonight, color warmed her cheeks. Her hands no longer trembled.
She had danced through the kitchen while Mom cried and called her recovery a Thanksgiving miracle.
No one asked why I could barely lift my fork.
I stared at the tooth half-buried in red sauce. Then I tasted blood.
"Mom?" My voice was too weak to carry across the table.
Dad raised his glass. "To our Lily. The strongest girl in this family."
"Our miracle," Mom whispered.
Noah grinned. "Welcome back, sis."
Their glasses touched.
I pressed my tongue against the empty space in my gums. Pain shot through my jaw. When I covered my mouth, warm blood slipped between my fingers.
"Mom," I said again. "Something's wrong."
This time, she turned. Her smile vanished.
A drop of blood struck the white tablecloth. Then another.
I coughed into my palm. Thin red threads gleamed against my skin.
Dad lowered the carving knife. "What the hell?"
"My tooth fell out."
Across the table, Lily's fingers tightened around her necklace.
For one second, I saw fear in her eyes.
She knew what was happening.
She had been awake at the Midnight Clinic when I signed away seventy years of my life.
She had heard the doctor warn me that the transfer would take everything slowly—my strength, my health, my youth.
She had heard me ask only one question. "If Lily gets better, will Mom love me again?"
Lily knew the price of her miracle. And she smiled.
"Emma," Mom said, her voice suddenly cold. "What did you take?"
I blinked at her. "What?"
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying. I think I need a doctor."
Lily lowered her gaze. "Mom, maybe we shouldn't do this tonight."
"Do what?" I asked.
She hesitated just long enough to look reluctant.
"I saw Emma behind the old pharmacy last week," she whispered. "She was meeting some guy. He gave her a little plastic bag."
The room went silent.
Last week, I had barely been able to leave my bed.
Last week, Lily had found me vomiting in the bathroom and stepped over me to reach the mirror.
"That never happened."
Noah's chair scraped backward. "Are you on meth?"
"No."
"Your teeth are falling out," Dad snapped. "You're coughing blood all over Thanksgiving dinner. What are we supposed to think?"
"That I'm sick!" The word tore out of me.
Everyone stared.
I turned to Mom. I hated that some part of me still believed she might save me if I explained it properly.
"My bones hurt. I can't keep food down. My hair keeps falling out, and sometimes I wake up unable to feel my hands. Please, Mom. I'm scared."
Her expression didn't soften.
Behind her, Lily stroked the diamond pendant resting over her newly healed heart. Mom had sold Grandma's ring to buy it for her.
Because surviving deserved a reward.
"I knew you couldn't stand it," Mom said.
"Stand what?"
"Your sister being happy."
I shook my head.
"You've been sulking since the day she came home. Tonight was supposed to celebrate her, but you couldn't let her have one evening."
"I'm bleeding."
"You're jealous."
"I gave her—" I stopped.
The contract forbade me from revealing the trade while Lily lived. Every time I tried, invisible fingers closed around my throat.
Mom mistook my silence for guilt.
"You gave her what?" she demanded.
My lungs burned. No sound came out.
Lily watched me struggle. Then she leaned into Mom's side.
"I told you she hated me," she whispered.
Mom slapped me.
My head snapped sideways. My hip struck the table, rattling the plates. Gravy spilled across the cloth and mixed with the blood beneath my hand.
For several seconds, all I could hear was ringing.
Mom stood over me, breathing hard. "How dare you bring drugs into this house after everything this family has suffered?"
"I didn't take anything."
Dad pointed toward the hallway. "Go to your room."
"Dad, please. I need a hospital."
"We spent enough on doctors saving your sister." He said it without hesitation. That hurt more than the slap.
Not because they had spent the money on Lily. Because he spoke as if there had never been two daughters worth saving.
Noah opened the dining-room door. "Get out before Grandma sees you like this."
I looked at Lily one last time.
She raised her wineglass. The diamonds around her throat caught the chandelier light and scattered it across the walls.
My health warmed her skin. My years beat inside her chest.
She mouthed two words. Go away.
So I did.
Upstairs, my bedroom was colder than the rest of the house. Mom had turned off the radiator days ago because she said I was wasting heat.
I locked the door and faced the mirror.
Blood stained my chin. A purple handprint was already rising across my cheek. My skin looked gray beneath the bathroom light.
Then I saw my hair.
A streak of white ran through my right temple.
I touched it, hoping it was some trick of the light. More strands turned gray beneath my fingers.
My breath caught.
The doctor at the Midnight Clinic had warned me that the payment would not be painless.
Seventy years could not be taken from a body without leaving damage behind.
I had thought the decline would be slow. Months, perhaps even years.
I had been wrong.
Through the wall came another burst of laughter. Then Mom began the toast she had written for Lily.
"To our miracle," she called.
Glasses clinked.
I stood alone before the mirror, holding my fallen tooth in my palm as white spread through my hair.
Lily's miracle had begun.
So had my death.
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