Chapter 2

The project leader on the other end, Julian, fell silent for a moment.

He asked in a meticulous tone:

"Miss Davies, when you signed the consent form, you promised me you'd see it through to the end."

"You've been so proactive with every treatment. Why the sudden change of heart?"

I sighed, a headache throbbing, not because of him, but because the expected sleep never came.

It was probably the resistance from relying on sleeping pills for my usual insomnia.

Good thing I had a backup plan.

I lay in the simple folding bathtub and slowly brought the razor to my wrist.

"Sorry, I'm a little busy right now."

"Can we talk tomorrow?"

Julian was stubbornly insistent. "What are you busy with?"

I watched the blood bloom in the water, hesitating.

Should I tell him I was busy dying?

While I was still conscious, I quickly mass-texted my family.

Attached was a selfie, the screen awash in crimson.

"You wanted my kidney, right? Come collect the body!"

"If you're late, I'll bleed out, and the kidney won't be fresh."

My eldest brother, Alex:

"You must have spent a fortune Photoshopping that."

"According to the tech I developed, if that blood loss were real, you'd be unconscious already."

"Charlotte Davies, stop acting. If you really want to die, jump off a building."

My fingers trembled, fumbling for the keys. "Your software sucks. You need to send it back to the drawing board."

In the SnapChat chat, a red exclamation mark popped up.

System notification: Message sent, but rejected by the recipient.

My second brother, Ryan, rapidly sent several messages:

"You're such a drama queen; Hollywood really missed out without you."

"If you truly wanted to donate, why didn't you just come home? Stop pretending!"

"I saw right through you after Serena's engagement party, you phony!"

I was getting dizzy from the rapid blood loss.