Chapter 9
541words
A young man's voice came through the line:
"Your sister's alive. She asked me to call only if her transplant was successful."
"If it failed, she wanted you to think she'd died that day by the lake."
My mind exploded with white noise. I barely heard his words—only that my sister was alive.
My mouth opened and closed before I finally forced out:
"Where is she?"
I caught the next flight out and rushed to my sister's side.
A young man sat vigilant by her bed. Before I arrived, he'd told me everything.
My sister had meant to drown herself, believing she'd been nothing but a burden to me for years.
But the current had carried her downstream where this young man found her.
He'd been at the lake that day to remember his own sister, who had died of cancer years earlier.
Finding my sister had seemed like fate to him.
After hearing her story, he'd committed to saving her—as if giving his own sister the second chance she never had.
My sister hadn't contacted me because she feared the transplant would fail.
She couldn't bear making me grieve her twice.
She'd instructed him to call only if she survived—her final gift to me.
I rushed to her bedside and gathered her in my arms, tears flowing freely.
When I told her about the divorce, she unleashed a string of colorful curses about Spencer.
"Stay here with me, sis. We can build something new together."
I looked at her in surprise, wondering about her plans to stay.
She smiled gently:
"It's not romantic between us. He lost his sister, so he's adopted me as his own. Like family."
The young man nodded, and I realized I hadn't properly thanked him.
I tried to express my gratitude, though words seemed woefully inadequate.
"Having another sister is all the thanks I need," he said.
His eyes glistened with tears. I understood that grief—how it leaves a permanent mark on your soul.
After some thought, I decided to stay abroad with my sister.
I found work quickly—a job with reasonable hours that let me care for her.
While I worked, he took her to his family's company, where tutors helped her catch up on her education.
She'd abandoned her studies when she got sick. Returning to education had always been her dream.
Life began to brighten, and my sister grew stronger each day.
Three months into our new life, I ran into Spencer Sinclair.
Leaving work one evening, I spotted a gaunt figure watching me from across the street.
Only as he approached did I recognize Spencer—thinner, haggard, a shadow of his former self.
I'd avoided news from home, though my sister occasionally updated me.
Charlotte had been blacklisted, her career in ruins, facing massive lawsuits from sponsors.
She'd turned to Spencer for help, but he was equally ruined—unemployable and broke.
Faced with her demands for financial help, he'd balked.
He'd ultimately refused her, telling her to solve her own problems.
Charlotte had fought back until Spencer threatened to release compromising photos and videos.
After their bitter breakup, Spencer had vanished—until now.
Apparently, he'd spent those months hunting for me across continents.
