Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I must’ve put it there before falling asleep.
Getting comfortable on the bed again, I pick up the notepad and pen and flip to the page I was writing on.
I read over the list I’ve made, then my eyes widen, and a gasp escapes me.
A life for a life.
The words are practically carved into the page.
What the hell?
Staring at the harshly written words, I’m filled with confusion.
I have no idea how the words got onto my notepad. Surely I didn’t write that before I fell asleep?
Why would I?
Still, the pen was in my hand when I woke up.
Unable to make sense of it, I close the notepad and set it down on the bedside table.
Lying back against the pillows, I stare up at the ceiling.
Weird things have been happening since the surgery. Besides the man I saw the night of the surgery, I’ve been seeing shadows move. As if someone’s watching me.
If I believed in ghosts, I’d think whoever donated the kidney died, and now they’re haunting me.
But there is no such thing as ghosts.
Right?
Zipping the bag closed, I grin at Dad. “Let’s get out of here.”
Dad takes the bag, and smiling from ear-to-ear, he wraps his other arm around my shoulders. “Finally, I get to take you home.”
As we walk out of the room and toward the exit of the hospital, emotion builds between us.
Neither of us thought this day would come.
After the car accident, our lives came to a standstill, and I’ve practically lived in the hospital ever since.
It feels like I’m being freed from prison after having been handed a life sentence.
When we walk out of the hospital, and I’m met with the sun shining brightly, tears sting my eyes.
I’ll never take life for granted again. Every day will be special.
A happy smile curves my lips when we reach Dad’s Mercedes, and when I open the passenger door and climb inside, I exhale a breath of relief straight from my soul.
Dad climbs in behind the steering wheel, and as he starts the engine, excitement bursts in my chest.
“I’m going home,” I shriek, and leaning over the center console, I hug the everloving crap out of Dad.
He pats my back and chuckles. “I can’t wait for you to make me something to eat.”
Pulling back, I say, “We have to stop at the store so I can get fresh ingredients. I’m going to make so much food that all you’ll do for the next week is eat.”
Dad steers the Mercedes away from the hospital, and my eyes drink in every car and person on the road. I stare at the buildings and trees.
Everything looks brand new as if I’m seeing it for the first time.
The leaves on the trees are greener, and every other color looks brighter than I remember.
When we reach our neighborhood, I’m hit with another wave of relief.
I get to live.
I’ll get a job at a five-star restaurant.
I’ll create my own dishes.
I’ll get married, and Dad will walk me down the aisle.
My cheeks hurt from all the smiling, and when Dad parks the car by the store, my body vibrates with strength and energy.
Grabbing a cart at the entrance, I head down aisle after aisle to stock up on everything I’ll need.
“Can we stop to get some meat and fish?” I ask while I search through the vegetables for the freshest ones.
“Sweetheart, consider me your chauffeur. We can go wherever you want,” Dad says.
I grin at him as I put a bunch of carrots in the cart. “You’re the best.”
“Don’t you ever forget that,” he teases me.
“Not a chance.”
When I have everything I can think of, we head to the checkout. Before I can start scanning the shopping, Dad says, “I don’t want you to overdo things. Let me take care of this.”
Watching Dad scan product after product, I feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
The worst is finally behind me, and I can breathe again.
I can hope and dream.
I can live.
“What do you feel like eating?” I ask.
“Anything, sweetheart.”
“How about lamb rib eye with garlic and sage roasted potatoes?” I ask, watching Dad’s face closely.
His smile wavers for a moment before brightening again. “You’re mother’s favorite. I think it’s fitting for today.”
Leaving the store, we stop by the butcher shop I love before heading home.
When I walk into my family home, it feels like the love of a million memories wraps around me. It feels like Mom will come down the grand staircase at any moment and scold us for going to the store without her.
Or her laughter will sound up somewhere in the house.
“Oh my God,” Louisa, our housekeeper, shrieks from my left. “You’re home!”
She’s worked for us since I was in elementary school, so she’s practically family.
She comes to give me a gentle hug, then says, “I’m so happy.”
“That makes two of us,” Dad murmurs. “Louisa, will you get the bags from the car, please?”