My mom, Dr. Helen Miller, is the most famous cardiothoracic surgeon in Miami. She saves countless lives every year. Yet, she never cared about my heart condition, nor would she ever let me get treated at her hospital. She always told me, “I have to avoid any conflict of interest, Chloe. If you come to my hospital, people will give you priority access, whether I want them to or not. That’s stealing medical resources from other patients.” I believed her. I was even proud of having such an selfless, ethical mother. Until my heart condition flared up again, and I was rushed to her hospital anyway. That was when I met Mia, the patient my mother had been caring for since they were both young. Mia was staying in the best VIP suite. The hospital was using the country’s most advanced medical equipment on her. Outside her room, the nurses were whispering. “Mia is so lucky. Dr. Miller is such an amazing doctor. She even redirected her own daughter’s matching donor heart to save Mia.” “Yeah, I heard Dr. Miller’s daughter won’t even live past twenty if she doesn’t get a transplant soon.” I looked at the text on my phone from my mom, claiming the donor match had failed. Tears silently streamed down my face. So, her so-called medical ethics required me to pay with my life.
Mia noticed me staring at the medication in her hand. She smiled and handed me a pill. “This is a premium painkiller for heart patients. You’re the patient in Bed 3, right? I heard you’ve been applying for this drug for three months. Here, I can spare you a box.” Her smile was sweet and innocent, as if this incredibly rare and expensive medicine was nothing to her. She smiled. “I grew up poor too. I know these medical bills must be a huge burden for your family.” My chest throbbed with a sharp pain. I tried to suppress my emotions, but I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in my eyes. When the pain used to keep me awake all night, I had begged my mom to save just one box of this exact medicine for me. But my mom had simply slapped my hand away, her voice freezing cold. “Chloe, are you trying to steal someone else’s life? You think your pain is the only pain that matters? Aren’t other patients hurting too?” I had felt so ashamed back then. But now, I heard the head nurse sigh in admiration. “The hospital only gets five boxes of this painkiller a month. Normally, one patient is capped at three boxes. But Dr. Miller pulled some strings to give all five boxes to Mia… Dr. Miller really loves her.” The corners of Mia’s mouth curved up slightly. She smiled and said, “Dr. Miller is my savior.” “She always puts me first. Take this heart transplant, for example. I didn’t even want to do it yet. The recovery period is so long, and my condition isn’t that urgent.” “But Dr. Miller insisted. She told me we only live once, and I must live for myself. She said I should grab every resource and connection I can to secure the best future for myself.” “I couldn’t argue with her, so I agreed to the transplant.” Mia stuck her tongue out playfully, looking cute and helpless. Just then, the head nurse came to call Mia for her checkup. Mia stuffed the medicine into my hand. “Just keep it. I have plenty anyway.” Then, she turned and walked away. My tears finally broke free, splashing onto the cold floor. A dull, lingering pain crept through my chest. I couldn’t believe those words had come from my own mother’s mouth. Mom, if you believe people should live for themselves, why did you force me to step aside again and again? Mom, if you believe people should grab every resource they can, why did you force me to give up everything? I walked over and knocked on my mom’s office door. Inside, two reporters were interviewing her. “Dr. Miller, what has kept you so dedicated and selfless all these years?” I stood at the door, my voice raspy. “Can you two leave for a moment?” The reporters exchanged confused looks. My mom quickly smoothed things over. “This is one of my patients. It must be an emergency. Please excuse us for a minute.” The moment the reporters stepped out, my mom’s face turned icy. “Didn’t I tell you never to come to my office? What if people find out you’re my daughter?” “I’ve already contacted St. Jude’s Hospital. You are transferring there tomorrow.” I raised my head, looking at her with red, swollen eyes. “Transferring there to die?” My mom froze mid-sip. She slammed her mug onto the desk. “Stop talking about dying! Did you forget everything I taught you?” “Do you have any idea what people are saying because you’re here? There are rumors that I used my position to get my daughter a VIP spot! Nurses are already snooping around, trying to figure out who you are!” “Don’t you understand? If I give you even one extra pill, it means another patient gets one less. Someone could die because of your selfishness! If everyone acted like you, how could we ever maintain medical fairness?” I wiped my tears and whispered, “Medical fairness? Where is the fairness? Didn’t you just give my matching heart away to someone else?” My mom looked at me, seemingly confused. “Heart? What heart?” Seeing her look of innocence, my heart shattered. She didn’t know that whenever she lied, she clenched her fists out of habit. No matter how well she acted, she couldn’t fool her own blood. And no matter what I said, I would never get the truth out of her. Suppressing the stabbing pain in my chest, I forced a weak smile. “Mom, I’m sorry. I misunderstood you.” My mom relaxed and waved her hand dismissively. “Fine. Get out now. And remember, keep your mouth shut.” The moment I stepped out of her office, I booked an Uber straight to the Florida Organ Transplant Bureau.
At the Florida Organ Transplant Bureau, I looked at the historical donor records, and my blood ran cold. Over the past ten years of my illness, I had been matched with a donor heart twice. And both times, my mother had declined them on my behalf. The first time was three years ago. Looking at the donor’s name on the screen, I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. The donor was my dad, Robert! My parents had divorced ten years ago when I first got sick. My dad had fought desperately to take me with him. “Helen, if you won’t treat our daughter, I will! I’ll take her to New York. We don’t need you! Stop lying about your ‘ethics’—you’re just obsessed with your precious reputation!” But back then, my mom had cried and told me my dad was misunderstanding her. Trusting her blindly, I chose to stay with my mom. After that, I never saw my dad again. Until he passed away three years ago in a car accident. Before he died, he had held my hand tightly and whispered, “Chloe, don’t be afraid. My death will give you a new life…” But Dad… I never got that new life. Because the lifeline you left for me was snatched away by my mother. The pain in my chest was so intense I could barely breathe. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air like a dying dog. The staff panicked and immediately called for an ambulance. The ambulance rushed me to the nearest hospital. The paramedic yelled into the radio, “We have a critical cardiac patient incoming! Prep the CT scan room immediately!” But my mom’s cold voice came through the receiver. “Request denied. Mia is scheduled for her routine scan. Put the incoming patient on hold.” The paramedic froze, then screamed into the radio, “Dr. Miller, are you insane? This patient just collapsed and is in critical condition!” I stared at the radio, desperately wanting to know what her choice would be. A patient on the verge of death versus Mia, who was perfectly stable. Who would she choose in the name of her beloved “medical fairness”? After a long pause, my mom’s voice came back, cold and detached. “I have already pushed back another patient’s appointment. Tell this incoming patient to wait ten minutes. As soon as Mia is done, she can go in.” With that, she cut off the radio, ignoring the paramedic’s frantic calls. Tears rolled down my cheeks. At that moment, I finally understood. Her strict moral rules only applied to me. I struggled to sit up and grabbed the paramedic’s sleeve. “Call Dr. Helen Miller… Tell her I’m Chloe… I’m her daughter!” The paramedic looked at me with deep pity. “Sweetie, pretending to be her daughter won’t work.” “We’ve already called your emergency contact—labeled ‘Mom’ on your phone—over ten times. We told her exactly how bad your condition is. She just said ‘I got it’ and hung up. If Dr. Miller were really your mother, she’d be running here by now.” “Why would any mother put another patient ahead of her own dying daughter?” Right… Why would she? My tears fell like rain. The heart monitor beside me began to beep frantically. The paramedic’s face paled, and she yelled, “Hurry! Patient’s heart rate is dropping rapidly! Get her to the ER!” Amidst the chaos, my gurney was wheeled right past my mom. She was carefully shielding Mia, turning her head to bark angrily at the passing nurses, “Slow down! Watch where you’re going! Don’t bump into people!” Then she turned back to Mia, her voice incredibly tender. “Don’t be afraid, sweetie. I’m right here.” Mom, if you knew the person on this gurney was me, would you still do this? Mom, why does your “medical fairness” always mean Mia comes first? I was eventually woken up by a loud argument outside my hospital room. My mom was shouting at the hospital staff. “Why are you giving this monitoring equipment to this patient? We only have one unit left! It has to go to Mia’s room!” The Chief of Medicine, Dr. Evans, frowned deeply. “Are you out of your mind, Helen? This patient is in critical condition and needs 24-hour monitoring! Mia is perfectly stable! Why on earth does she need this advanced equipment?” I slowly opened my eyes and rasped, “Mom, are you trying to give my life away again?”
As my voice echoed in the room, a sudden, heavy silence fell. My mom turned to look at me, her face draining of color. But she quickly regained her composure. “Who authorized your transfer to a private room? Don’t you know that by taking this room, you’re denying it to another patient who actually needs it?” I let out a bitter, weak laugh. “Don’t worry, Mom. As long as you’re here, Mia will always have her VIP suite.” “I went to the Florida Organ Transplant Bureau today. My match, and my dad’s heart… what were you thinking when you gave them away?” My mom’s face flushed red, then turned pale. She snapped, yelling at me, “I am your mother! I have the legal right to make medical decisions for you!” Suddenly, there was a commotion in the hallway. Mia rushed in, followed by her brother, Mason, and a crowd of reporters. Mia threw herself onto her knees beside my bed, tears streaming down her face. “Chloe, if you want to blame someone, blame me and Mason! It’s our fault for being sick. We didn’t mean to force Dr. Miller to redirect the matching heart to us!” Mason also dropped to his knees, looking incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lived. If I had just died back then, your dad’s heart would still be yours…” With that, he grabbed a fruit knife from the fruit basket on the bedside table and aimed it at his own chest. “I’ll give your heart back to you right now!” The people around him quickly grabbed his arm to stop him. A surge of pure, blinding anger overtook my mind. I snatched the knife from the floor and thrust it toward Mason. “You want to give it back? Then do it!” “Give it back to me right now! That was my dad’s heart! What right did you have to steal it?!” The reporters’ cameras flashed frantically. My mom, standing in the middle of the flashing lights, clenched her teeth and delivered a hard slap across my face. “Smack!” “Chloe! How long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum? Is your life the only one that matters? Do other people not deserve to live?!” I screamed back, my voice cracking, “But what about my life?! Just because I’m your daughter, do I not have the right to live?!” Reporters shoved their microphones into my face. “Chloe, your mother, Dr. Miller, is known for her selflessness. Why are you acting so selfishly? Is this because of your father’s influence?” “Are you trying to drive Mia and her brother to suicide today?” My mom noticed my face turning blue as my heart rate spiked past the danger zone. But just as she stepped forward, Mia suddenly collapsed to the floor. “Dr. Miller… my chest hurts…” Without a second thought, my mom rushed to Mia’s side and carried her out of the room, leaving me behind without a single backward glance. The reporters continued to crowd around my bed, shouting questions. I couldn’t hold on any longer. Darkness rushed in, and I collapsed onto the mattress. Even as I lost consciousness, the reporters kept badgering me. “Are you faking a faint now?” “Are you trying to use public sympathy to force Dr. Miller to give in?” Dr. Evans’ face was black with rage as he began shoving the reporters out. “Get out! All of you, get out! The patient is in critical condition!” But by the time I woke up, I had already become the villain of the internet. The headlines were everywhere on Ins and TikTok: [Ungrateful Brat! Dr. Miller’s Daughter Tries to Force Sick Patients to Commit Suicide!] [Shocking! Selfless Dr. Miller Has a Monster for a Daughter!] No matter where I went, people whispered and pointed at me. When I tried to buy food at a nearby diner, someone suddenly threw a plastic bottle at me. “You’re sick too, so why are you trying to ruin other patients’ chances of surviving? You monster!” More trash was thrown at me. Someone even dumped leftover food over my head. I had no choice but to run away in utter humiliation. Then, my mom called me. “Chloe, you need to apologize to Mia. Her surgery is coming up, and she cannot handle this kind of stress.” I let out a cold laugh. “Shouldn’t she be the one apologizing to me?” My mom’s voice turned deadly cold. “Apologize. Or I will cut off your medical funds immediately.” My mom was a woman of her word. That very day, completely ignoring the fact that her biological daughter was on the verge of death, she cut off my medical insurance and hospital funds. I was forced to leave the hospital. To afford my basic medication and stay alive, I had to find a low-paying job. But my weak heart couldn’t handle the physical labor. I collapsed, coughed up blood, and my heart even stopped three times. In the end, I found myself lying helplessly by the side of a busy street, quietly waiting for death to claim me. Just then, a pair of expensive leather shoes appeared in my blurry field of vision.
Mia stood before me. The pale, fragile look of a heart patient was completely gone. Her cheeks were rosy, and she looked perfectly healthy. She twirled around in front of me gracefully, then asked with mock concern, “Chloe, why aren’t you in the hospital getting treated?” My mom’s Mercedes was parked by the curb. I knew she was watching from inside. Mia dropped a stack of dollar bills in front of me. “Mom asked me to bring you some cash.” I struggled to open my eyes, my voice barely a whisper. “Mom?” Mia smirked, her eyes filled with triumph. “That’s right. Mom.” “You probably don’t know this yet, but I’m Mom’s daughter too. Technically, you should be calling me your older sister.” “And Mason is her son, too.” “From the very first moment I saw you, I knew exactly who you were. Everything that happened… I did it on purpose!” “I just wanted you to see how much Mom actually loves me!” I stared at her quietly. “So… you also stole my matching heart on purpose, and brought those reporters to frame me on purpose?” Mia giggled, looking incredibly pleased with herself. “Well, since you’re about to die anyway, I might as well let you die with some answers.” “Yes, I did it all on purpose.” “Of course, Mom isn’t entirely innocent either. If she hadn’t turned a blind eye, I wouldn’t have succeeded so easily.” A bitter smile played on my lips. What about me? I had a mother, yet I was treated worse than a stray dog. Mia patted my cheek patronizingly, turned around, and walked away. My mom’s car sped off, disappearing into the traffic. From beginning to end, she never once stepped out of the car to look at me. A gust of wind blew, scattering the cash across the pavement. She wanted me to rot in hell. But instead, I was going to drag her down there with me. I slowly pulled my hand out of my pocket. In it was a small voice recorder. It was my tenth birthday present from my dad. This time, I wanted to see just how deep my mother’s “selflessness” really went.
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