Chapter 1

My sister and I were caught in a terrorist attack.

A stray bullet ripped through my organs. I was dying.

But my mother, Victoria Carter, the dean of South Beach Elite Medical Center, shut down the entire hospital to run full-body scans on my sister, Sophia, who had only a scratch on her finger.

I collapsed at the hospital entrance, using the last of my strength to beg her to save me.

She looked at me with disgust and shouted, "How did I give birth to such a heartless animal? Are you that desperate to see your sister dead?"

I died on the cold pavement just steps from the place she ruled.

The same mother who couldn't wait for me to die now sobbed, saying she'd made a terrible mistake.

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After death, my soul clung to my mother's side.

She was pacing anxiously, waiting for Sophia's test results. Almost every attending doctor in the hospital had gathered at my sister's bedside.

My mother stood facing the wall, fists pressed against her chest as she whispered desperate prayers. "Oh, Father, please don't take Sophia away from me. As long as Sophia's okay, I'll give you whatever I have, even my soul."

Sophia let out two soft coughs. My mother rushed to her, shoving aside the doctor checking her vitals.

"Sophia? Are you feeling pain anywhere?"

Tears streaked from the corners of Sophia's eyes. Her lips moved, but her voice was barely audible.

My mother leaned down, placing her ear close to Sophia's mouth. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart. Tell me, what's wrong? Mom's right here."

She was already falling apart, her voice a stammering mess.

Sophia opened her mouth again, weak and trembling. "Mom… Am I going to die? I… I'm scared… Please save me…"

My mother broke down, wailing as she turned on the doctors. "What do I pay you worthless idiots for?! If anything happens to her, I'll make sure every one of you pays with your life!"

Elena Ramirez, the lead physician, stepped forward and handed her a report. "Dr. Carter, we've completed all necessary tests. Aside from a minor abrasion on her finger, Sophia is physically fine."

My mother snatched the report from Elena's hands and flung it back at her. "Are you blind?! Does this look like nothing to you? If you don't find out what's wrong with my daughter, none of you are leaving this hospital!"

The doctors bowed their heads. "Please, calm down, Dr. Carter. We'll run the tests again immediately."

They scrambled into motion. One took her blood pressure. Another clipped on a heart monitor. Others stared at the scans, flipping through them again and again.

The room buzzed with frantic activity.

But after a full round of examinations, silence fell. No one spoke.

My mother's patience snapped. "Well?! Say something!"

The doctors began to whisper among themselves.

"Did you find anything?"

"No. You?"

"Nothing."

"What the hell do we do now?"

Finally, Dr. Ramirez stepped forward again. "Dr. Carter, Sophia has no physical illness. It may be a psychological reaction—stress from the attack. She could be experiencing symptoms due to trauma."

It was a reasonable explanation, and my mother's shoulders finally relaxed.

She looked at Sophia curled up on the bed and muttered softly, "That's good… That's good…"

Then she summoned the hospital's top psychologist, Jordan Hale, to provide counseling for Sophia.

She had doubted the hospital's equipment. She had doubted the doctors' competence. But the one thing she never questioned was whether Sophia might be faking.

After all the chaos, Sophia realized that if she kept pretending, she might give herself away.

"Mom, I feel a lot better now. It's just… my finger really hurts."

My mother immediately called for a nurse.

Carla Mendoza came in with disinfectant and gauze.

But before the alcohol wipe even touched Sophia's skin, she screamed, "Ahh—it hurts so much!"

She burst into dramatic sobs.

My mother yanked Carla away. "You clumsy fool! Do you even know what you're doing? You hurt my daughter!"

Carla bowed quickly, stammering apologies. "I'm so sorry, Dr. Carter. I didn't mean to—"