Chapter 1

For the sake of avoiding any appearance of favoritism, or perhaps just to avoid my "dirty" touch, Dr. Eleanor Vance, my mom, left me, severely injured from a car accident, in her office.

She turned to check on the other students, who only had minor scrapes but kept crying about how much it hurt.

The other doctors were urging her to check on me.

With my blood-soaked hand, I grabbed her arm, almost begging.

"Eleanor, I'm in so much pain. Please, don't go, okay?"

But Eleanor didn't even glance at me. She just flung my hand away.

"Lily Vance, don't touch me with your dirty hands. Don't you know I'm a germophobe?"

"Don't think you're getting special treatment just because you're my daughter!"

"Besides a little blood on your hand, you look fine. The others need me more than you do. Stop being dramatic and wait here!"

I watched Eleanor's retreating back in despair.

Suddenly, my throat tightened, my vision went black, and I spat out a pool of dark, clotted blood into the trash can.

Was I... dying?

I'm so sorry, Eleanor.

I don't think I can wait for you.