The lights in the operating room flared to life with a blinding intensity, washing every surface in an unforgiving, sterile white.
Rose drew in a shaky breath and let her eyes drift shut, aware of the hot tears gathering at their corners.
Somewhere beside her, a nurse's calm, distant voice urged her to count to ten, but Rose's mind had already slipped away – spiraling back to the bitter conversation she had overheard only minutes before being wheeled inside.
"You promised!" Carrie, Rose's closest friend, the woman she trusted more than anyone, had shouted, her small fists pounding against Tyler's chest. "You promised you'd divorce her! How long are you going to drag this out?"
"You have to understand, Carrie," Tyler, Rose's husband, had murmured as he pulled the sobbing woman into his arms. "She never would've agreed to donate a kidney if she knew I was planning to leave her. Everything I'm doing… I'm doing for you."
Rose's heartbeat had hammered violently then, a rush of blood roaring in her ears.
How could she have been so blind?
All the signs had been there, waving in front of her like bright warning flags.
And yet, until the very end, she had clung to her faith in them – naive, trusting, and painfully foolish.
"I'll admit, the plan was brilliant," Carrie had said with a smug little smirk, dabbing the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. "And the buyer offered us such an incredible amount. It's lucky Rose is so healthy – selling her kidney was almost too easy."
What?
The blood in Rose's veins turned to ice, and her entire body began trembling so violently she could barely remain upright. So it wasn't for Tyler's mother?
What was going on?
When Tyler had told her that his mother needed a kidney transplant, Rose had offered her own without a second thought. After so many years of marriage, responding to his requests had become instinct – an automatic reflex she never questioned.
"Can you drive my father to the airport at three in the morning, even though you need to be at work just a few hours later?"
"Sure, I can do that."
"Can I take my mother to the Maldives this summer and cancel our Paris trip? She's been feeling depressed lately—I want to cheer her up."
"Of course. You're such a wonderful son."
"Mother asked you to help her with the gardening this weekend. So what if you're exhausted from working all week? This is the only family you have, Rose. How can you be so selfish?"
Do this, do that, do everything… At some point, Rose couldn't help but wonder whether her in-laws had wanted a wife for their son or simply a tireless servant to indulge their every whim.
And still, she had loved Tyler—deeply, sincerely—and because she believed he loved her too, she had been willing to do anything he asked.
Even giving up one of her kidneys had felt like a small price to pay.
And now, moments before one of her most vital organs was to be taken from her, she had learned the truth—the kidney wasn't for her mother-in-law at all. It was a carefully crafted lie, a scheme to sell her organ so her so-called best friend could pay off the mountain of debt from her failed business.
When had it all begun? When had her husband and her best friend started this secret affair behind her back?
And how deep did their betrayal run if Tyler was willing to carve pieces off her body just to save Carrie?
Did any of it even matter now?
The bitter thought surged through Rose's mind, wrapping her in a suffocating web of self-loathing and disbelief.
Now, lying on the cold surgical table, mere seconds from slipping into unconsciousness, she found—shockingly—that she felt no regret.
All her life, she had wanted nothing more than a loving husband and the warmth of a peaceful home. For a fleeting moment, she had believed she had achieved that dream.
And she wanted to cling to that memory, however false it might have been.
"Something's wrong." The doctor's voice cut sharply through the haze, dropping into an icy, urgent tone.
Rose's thoughts were still foggy, drifting in and out like mist, yet she could see her own body with startling clarity—as though her soul had slipped free and hovered just above it.
In fact, she saw everything.
The harsh, blinding lights.
The surgeon and his assistant moving with frantic urgency.
The nurse rushing to fetch instruments.
The anesthesiologist staring in bewildered alarm.
And the blood—far too much blood—spreading beneath the surgical drape in a dark, widening bloom, like a crimson flower unfurling across sterile sheets.
Am I… having an out-of-body experience?
Rose felt weightless, detached, like a wandering ghost watching her own life fade away. The scene was almost poetic in its cruelty: the last request she had granted, and the ultimate price she would pay for being so soft-hearted, so blindly trusting.
Abnormal bleeding. Rapid blood loss. Her body was failing.
And through it all, only one thought echoed through the hollow of her fading consciousness:
Was it worth it?
***
"When is she going to stop with these theatrics?"
"How many times has it been now? Three? Four?"
"She needs to come up with something more original than claiming she was poisoned. No one believes that anymore."
Several male voices cut through Rose's mind—distant, unfamiliar, tinged with a bitterness that felt almost personal.
"For what it's worth, I hope she doesn't wake up this time. Maybe then we'll finally be free of that witch."
Huh? What are they talking about?
Rose flinched, a faint crease forming between the elegant arches of her brows. She tried to move, but her body felt rigid, heavy, as if weighted down by chains. Even imagining opening her eyes sent a wave of pain rolling through her skull.
Still, after what felt like an eternity of effort, her eyelids fluttered open—and her lungs immediately seized, desperate for air.
Where… am I?!
Rose lurched upright, ignoring the sharp pain that tore through every muscle. Her body ached with a feverish throb, yet the shock of her surroundings jolted her with a burst of clarity.
And what she saw was beyond comprehension.
A dim, dusty room, its air thick with an old, musty stillness and an overpowering herbal scent that stung her eyes. It looked nothing like a hospital room—nothing like anywhere she should have been—yet something about it stirred an eerie sense of familiarity deep in her chest.
Ding!
A soft yet urgent chime snapped her attention forward. Floating right before her eyes was a bright, violet-hued digital screen hovering in midair.
[Congratulations, Host!
You have awakened the Heart-Mending System.
Would you like to learn who you are?]
... What?!