On the operating table, I was covered in my own blood. Ten minutes after the anesthesia wore off, the cold scalpel was carving its third incision across my lower abdomen. My body seized with agony, tears blurring my vision as I desperately strained to look at him through the observation window. He was cradling my stepsister, Serena, a chilling smile on his face as he instructed the doctor, “Take the uterus and kidney together. No scars. They’re for Serena later.” I tried to scream, but a nurse clamped a hand over my mouth. “Ms. Hayes, don’t struggle. Mrs. Knight said your life was salvaged from that car accident five years ago because you shielded her daughter. Now it’s time to return what’s rightfully hers.” So, that ‘accident’ five years ago wasn’t him risking his life to save me. It was him who shoved me out of the car, hoping *I* would die in Serena’s place. So, these five years of marriage were nothing but a twisted game of cultivating my organs. The operating lights swam before my eyes, and my stepsister’s sickly sweet voice drifted into my ears: “Thank you for dying for me, sis. Next life, remember to stay far away from what’s mine.” I choked down my last breath. When I opened my eyes again, it was that rainy night five years ago – he was smiling, extending a hand to me: “Need a ride? I can drop you off.” This time, I simply raised my hand and slapped him.
I opened my eyes, the blinding operating lights searing into my pupils. My whole body ached as if someone had sliced me open, inch by agonizing inch. I tried to move, but my hands were strapped tightly to the operating table. The anesthesia had worn off. I could distinctly feel the cold scalpel carving its third incision across my lower abdomen. Tears blurred my vision, and I strained my head, desperately looking toward the observation window. Through the glass, I saw him. Julian Knight, my husband, stood there, his arm wrapped around a woman. That woman was my stepsister, Serena Hayes. He pointed at my body, saying something to the lead surgeon. His voice crackled through the intercom: “Take the uterus and kidney together. No scars. They’re for Serena later.” I froze. What was he saying? I tried to scream, but a nurse’s hand clamped over my mouth. The nurse looked at me coldly: “Ms. Hayes, don’t struggle. Mrs. Knight said your life was salvaged from that car accident because you shielded her daughter. Now it’s time to return what’s rightfully hers.” Return what’s rightfully hers? My mind roared, and the scene of that car accident five years ago suddenly flashed before me. It was a stormy night. My stepmother and I had argued, and she’d thrown me out of the house. Julian Knight’s car pulled up to the driveway. He smiled at me and said, “Need a ride? I can drop you off at school.” I got in. As the car drove to the outskirts, an out-of-control truck suddenly veered towards us. I remember him sharply turning the steering wheel and shoving me toward the passenger door. The door flew open on impact, and I was thrown out. Then, I remembered nothing. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, that memory erased. Julian Knight sat by my bed, gently holding my hand: “You took the brunt of the crash for Serena. She’s so grateful.” I thought it was an accident. I thought he had saved me. For five years, he had been meticulously devoted, showering me with care and concern. I thought it was love. It wasn’t. That car crash wasn’t an accident. He had pushed me out of the car himself. These five years of tenderness were nothing but a twisted game of cultivating my organs. The operating lights swam before my eyes, and Serena Hayes’ sickly sweet voice drifted into my ears. “Thank you for dying for me, sis. Next life, remember to stay far away from what’s mine.” I tried to speak, but only muffled whimpers escaped my throat. Julian Knight turned, his gaze passing through the glass to me. His eyes were terrifyingly calm, as if he were looking at an item about to be scrapped. I struggled desperately, the straps biting into my wrists. The lead surgeon picked up the scalpel, ready to continue cutting into my abdomen. I felt the icy touch of the blade against my skin. It hurt. It hurt so much. I wanted to beg, to scream for them to stop, but I couldn’t even make a sound. Large tears streamed down my face, splattering onto the white surgical sheet. Julian Knight remained expressionless behind the observation window. Serena Hayes leaned on his shoulder, smiling exquisitely. I closed my eyes, refusing to look at them anymore. The scalpel sliced into my body, inch by inch, and the scent of blood filled the air. I felt my life slowly draining away. My consciousness grew hazy, and the voices faded into the distance. In my final moments, I had only one thought. If I could do it again, I would never have gotten into his car. Then, everything went black.
I gasped, my eyes snapping open. My body was drenched in cold sweat, my heart pounding fiercely. I stared blankly at the scene before me—the entrance to the Hayes family villa. Rain poured down, cold and biting against my face. I was soaked, my phone screen shattered. A black Bentley pulled up, and the window slowly rolled down. Julian Knight smiled, extending his hand to me: “Need a ride? I can drop you off at school.” I froze. That face, this scene, those words. Exactly the same as five years ago. No, more accurately, exactly the same as just a moment ago. Hadn’t I just died on the operating table? Why was I back here? Julian Knight’s brow furrowed when he saw me unmoving. “Clara? What’s wrong?” I stared at him, countless images flashing through my mind. His cold eyes, directing doctors to harvest my organs. His intimate posture, holding Serena. The moment he pushed me out of the car on that rainy night. I took a step back, raised my hand, and slapped him without hesitation. “SMACK!” The crisp sound of the slap echoed loudly in the rainy night. Julian Knight froze, clutching his cheek, staring at me in disbelief. “You…” “Get lost.” My voice was icy. I turned and walked into the rain. His voice called out behind me: “Clara! Are you crazy?” I didn’t look back, walking straight into the villa. My stepmother stood in the living room, a sneer on her face when she saw me. “What, couldn’t bear to leave?” I ignored her, went straight upstairs, and returned to my room. Locking the door, I leaned against it, trembling. I had been reborn. I truly had. I was back to that rainy night five years ago, where it all began. I remembered the script of my previous life. Tonight, I would be kicked out by my stepmother after an argument, and Julian Knight would “just happen to pass by” to offer me a ride. The car would encounter an “accident” on the outskirts, and I would take the fatal impact meant for Serena, falling into a coma with severe injuries. I would wake up, having lost that memory, and Julian Knight would approach me as my “savior.” Over five years, he would slowly groom me into a perfect organ donor. But this time, I had rejected him. I walked to my desk, opened a drawer, and took out a USB drive. These were all the pieces of evidence I had gathered against Serena Hayes during my college years. In my past life, I was too naive, believing she truly was a charitable socialite. It wasn’t until my death that I understood she was glamorous on the surface but secretly controlled an underground organ trafficking network. The victims of those “car accidents” were all carefully selected matching donors. I was simply the perfect match found after Serena’s kidney failure. I opened my laptop, inserted the USB drive, and files filled the screen. A list of victims from seventeen “accidents.” Every person was sent to the Knight family’s private hospital after their “accident.” Their organs were removed, and they were then declared beyond saving. I gripped the mouse, a cold glint in my eyes. This life, I wouldn’t let them succeed. My phone vibrated. It was a SnapChat message from Julian Knight. “Clara, I was out of line earlier. Please don’t be angry. Can I still drive you back to school?” I looked at the message, a sarcastic smile playing on my lips. In my previous life, he used this gentle facade to deceive me for five years. This life, I wouldn’t fall for it again. I replied: “No thanks. We’re not close.” After sending it, I pulled out the USB drive and hid it in my safe. Tomorrow, I had somewhere to go.
Three days later, I received a notification from the hospital. Serena Hayes had suffered acute kidney failure and was in critical condition. I stood in the hospital corridor, looking at the red light above the emergency room. Mrs. Knight sat on a bench, wiping away tears. She immediately stood up when she saw me. She grabbed my hand: “Clara, you’re finally here!” I pulled my hand back, expressionless: “Mrs. Knight, what can I do for you?” Mrs. Knight froze, a flicker of displeasure in her eyes, quickly replaced by a pleading look. “Clara, you and Serena are sisters. Can you save her?” I didn’t speak, just watched her quietly. “The doctors say your match is perfect. If you just donate a kidney…” Before she could finish, the emergency room door opened. Julian Knight walked out, his gaze complex as he looked at me. “Clara.” He walked towards me. I instinctively took a step back. He paused, softening his voice: “That slap the other night, I understand now.” I looked at him coldly: “You understand what?” “You’re mad I haven’t paid attention to you before, right?” He took a deep breath: “Clara, I know the Hayes family hasn’t treated you well, but Serena is innocent.” “I promise you, if you save her, I will compensate you.” I heard the probing in his words. In my previous life, I was manipulated after losing my memory. This life, my memory was intact, and they were trying a new strategy of emotional manipulation and tempting offers. I said, expressionless: “Mrs. Knight, I also want to save her, but donating a kidney is a major surgery. I need to think it through carefully.” “I’ll give you my answer in a week.” With that, I turned and left. Behind me, I heard Mrs. Knight’s hushed voice: “This girl isn’t easy to fool anymore. Should we use the old method?” Julian Knight was silent for a few seconds: “Wait a bit longer. Don’t tip them off.” I gripped my phone tightly. The recording was saved. Leaving the hospital, I hailed a cab and headed straight for the city police station. In the car, I reviewed the files on my USB drive. It was only after I died in my past life that I learned the Knight family and Hayes family had conspired to keep me as a backup organ supply for five years. Mr. and Mrs. Hayes had received millions of dollars in hush money from the Knights. My stepmother had even proactively offered to “deliver the goods anytime.” This life, I would make them pay the price. The taxi stopped in front of the police station. I got out and walked inside. The front desk officer looked up at me: “Hello, can I help you?” “I’d like to report an organ trafficking case.” My voice was calm, but it made the front desk officer pause. “Please wait a moment.” He picked up the phone and spoke in a low voice. Ten minutes later, a middle-aged man in plain clothes walked out. “Follow me.” I followed him into an office. He sat down, gesturing for me to take a seat: “I’m Detective Miller, head of a special investigation unit assigned by the state.” I nodded, pulling the USB drive from my bag. “This contains a list of seventeen ‘accident’ victims Serena Hayes manipulated over five years.” Detective Miller took the USB drive, his brows furrowing. “Every person was sent to a private hospital after their ‘accident,’ and declared beyond saving after their organs were removed.” I paused: “The Knight family’s private hospital was the transplant facility. The Hayes family was responsible for identifying matching donors and staging the ‘accidents.’” Detective Miller plugged in the USB drive and quickly scanned the files, his expression growing more grim. “We’ve been tracking this case for two years, but we’ve always lacked core evidence.” He looked up at me: “Why do you have all this?” I calmly said: “Because I was supposed to be their next target.” Detective Miller narrowed his eyes: “You mean…” “I can cooperate with you to lure them out.” I opened my phone and played the recording I made at the hospital. Mrs. Knight’s voice clearly echoed: “Should we use the old method?” Detective Miller listened, silent for a long time. “What are your terms?” “Three.” I held up three fingers: “First, protection for my personal safety. Second, the arrest operation must happen before they perform any forced surgery. Third, afterwards, I want to completely disappear, change my name and identity, and leave this city.” Detective Miller looked at me, then finally nodded: “Agreed.”
By the time I left the police station, it was evening. The sky was darkening, and streetlights flickered on one by one. My phone vibrated. It was a call from Mr. Hayes. I answered, but didn’t speak. “Clara, where are you?” Mr. Hayes’ voice sounded anxious. “Out.” My answer was brief. “Come home quickly. I have something to tell you.” I hung up, a cold smile playing on my lips. Detective Miller was right; they were going to make their move early. I hailed a taxi and gave the address of the Hayes family villa. Outside the car window, the city lights sped by. I looked at my reflection in the glass, my eyes terrifyingly calm. In my previous life, it was tonight that Mr. Hayes called me home. Then I was drugged and sent to the Knight family’s private hospital. This life, I had already set the trap. The taxi stopped at the villa entrance. I paid and got out. The living room was brightly lit. Mr. and Mrs. Hayes were both sitting on the sofa. I pushed the door open, and they immediately stood up. “Clara, you’re finally home.” Mr. Hayes walked towards me, a forced smile on his face. I looked at him, the man who, in my past life, sold his daughter for millions of dollars. “What do you want?” My voice was cold. “It’s about Serena. Her condition is very serious. The doctors say she needs surgery soon.” Mr. Hayes rubbed his hands: “You see, you and she are sisters. Can’t you…” “No.” I cut him off. Mr. Hayes froze: “Clara, how can you be so selfish? Serena is your sister!” “Sister?” I sneered: “What kind of sister is she to me? How many times have we seen each other since we were kids?” My stepmother stood up, pointing at me: “Clara Hayes, don’t be ungrateful!” “Ungrateful?” I looked at her: “Then let me ask you, that car accident five years ago, was it planned by you?” My stepmother’s face changed, and Mr. Hayes froze. “What are you talking about!” My stepmother shrieked. “Whether I am or not, you both know in your hearts.” I turned to go upstairs. Mr. Hayes grabbed my arm: “Clara, you’re not going anywhere tonight!” I pulled his hand away: “Let go of me.” “Your father had no choice.” Mr. Hayes sighed, his eyes suddenly turning cold. My heart tightened, and I instinctively tried to run. But my stepmother already had me in a hold from behind. “What are you doing!” I struggled desperately. Mr. Hayes pulled a syringe from his pocket, filled with a clear liquid. “Clara, don’t blame your father.” He walked over and grabbed my arm. The needle pierced my skin, and the cold liquid injected into my body. My vision began to blur, and my body grew weaker. “You…” I tried to speak, but my tongue wouldn’t obey. My stepmother released me, and I fell to the floor. Mr. Hayes picked up his phone: “Julian, she’s ready. Send the car.” I lay on the cold floor, my consciousness slowly fading. Before I lost consciousness, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Hayes standing nearby, watching me expressionlessly. Like they were looking at a piece of cargo. Memories from my past life surged, despair and fury threatening to consume me. But quickly, I calmed down. Because I knew Detective Miller’s people were already outside. I had sent him my location before coming here. Moreover, I had a miniature recording device on me. At this moment, outside the operating room, a dozen police cars were silently approaching. I closed my eyes, awaiting the final moment. Julian Knight, this time, I won’t let you succeed. Half an hour later, I was carried into a black SUV. The car started, heading towards the Knight family’s private hospital. I felt the car stop, and someone carried me out. Blinding lights, the smell of disinfectant. I was placed on the operating table, my hands restrained. Julian Knight’s voice echoed in my ears. “I’m sorry, I can’t wait any longer.” I snapped my eyes open. The dazzling surgical lights shone directly into my pupils, and Julian Knight, dressed in surgical scrubs, stood beside me. His eyes were cold, as if he were looking at an item about to be processed. “Serena’s kidney failure is already in its late stages. Any more delay and it will be too late.” I tried to move my wrist, the strap cutting into my flesh. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll die on the operating table?” My voice was hoarse, but clear. Julian Knight paused: “You’re awake?” “Forced organ removal carries a rejection risk, no matter how perfect the match.” I scoffed. Mrs. Knight walked over, looking down at me. “Don’t worry. We’ve been cultivating you for five years. We know your body data better than you do.” She sneered: “And even if you die, your life should have ended five years ago anyway.”
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