She Gave Him Her Heart , He Gave It to Someone Else

The impatience in his voice vanished, replaced by a flicker of panic he couldn't quite hide.

“I'm coming over now.”

Daniel stood up and was about to leave when Hope let out a sharp cry.

She clutched her chest and writhed on the bed, her face drained of color.

The call ended somewhere between her moaning and Daniel's frantic calls for help.

The dial tone filled my ears again, and I blacked out to the sound of my own pulse roaring.

The entire dish of pears lay shattered on the floor where I'd hurled it. I lowered my eyes.

Then, voice ice-cold, I asked the stunned man in front of me,

“Hope likes pears too, doesn't she?”

Daniel laughed in disbelief, his patience finally spent.

He swept the remains of the dish aside with a crash.

“So that's what this is about? Sybilla, can't you be a little less petty?”

“You know Hope's situation. She needs a new heart, and yours happened to be a match.”

“Do you really have to make a scene about this? Do you really have to be this small?”

His voice was low and cold, nothing like my calm.

I picked up his hand where it hung at his side and slowly pressed it to my chest.

Through the equipment, there was no heartbeat to feel.

I just looked at him, steady, and said, “Daniel, I don't even have a heart anymore. How exactly am I supposed to be petty?”

He froze. The color bled from his face, and something in my lifeless eyes made him afraid.

“Sybilla, I……”

His words were cut off by a ringtone.

Hope's soft, fragile voice drifted from the other end.

“Daniel, did you even do my surgery properly? My incision really hurts!”

His tone melted instantly, turning gentle—

“I'll be right there. Don't move around.”

The call ended. A razor-sharp silence wedged itself between us.

“Sybilla, Hope is innocent in all this.”

“If you need to blame someone……blame me.”

I pressed my hand to my chest for a long time, feeling the foreign thing beating inside me.

Since the artificial heart, the chest pains hadn't eased. They'd gotten worse. More frequent.

Daniel didn't believe me.

“I performed your surgery myself. There can't be a problem.”

“If you want me to take you on a trip to clear your head, just say so.”

The words had barely left his mouth when Hope appeared in the doorway.

“Hope, what are you doing here?” The man who'd been cold a second ago was suddenly all concern.

“I told you, you haven't recovered enough to be out of bed. Why don't you ever listen?”

He went to her, exasperated, reaching out to steady her.

Hope shook his hand off and rolled her eyes with a cute pout—

“Are you the doctor or am I? Don't underestimate me.”

She walked straight to my bedside and sat down, holding the fruit dish out to me, her voice sweet.

“Dr. Fox, thank you so much. Without your heart, I really don't know what I would have done.”

My fists clenched under the blanket, fingers digging in so hard they nearly tore through the fabric.

My lips curved into a cold smile. I turned to Daniel, expressionless—

“Sure. Then let's go on that trip together, the two of us.”

In my peripheral vision, the fake smile on Hope's face locked in place. Before Daniel could react—

“Ah!” Hope shrieked and threw herself to the floor.

A toothpick from the fruit dish had pierced her finger, and blood welled up.

“Sybilla Fox! What did you do?!” Daniel rushed to her, checking the wound.

He glared at me, eyes frigid. “I've already told you. Don't take your anger out on Hope.”

“Or I won't be so polite next time.”

My chest heaved, and blood surged up into my throat.

I'd already given up on him. So why did it still hurt this much.

I fought to steady my breathing and was about to speak when Hope cut me off.