ManyWriters

On the day of Zoran's pharmaceutical company's IPO, I was back in the hospital for another skin graft due to an infected ulceration on my burn-injured face, as I couldn't afford treatment.
Zoran video called me: "How does it feel to be abandoned now, after choosing a wealthy heir Elias for money back then?"
He noticed I was in the hospital: "What are you getting fixed this time? You plastic surgery freak."
I forced a laugh through the pain: "Mr. Carlisle, this time I'm hoping for a skin transplant."
He scoffed and hung up.
But what he didn't know was that I wasn't there for plastic surgery.
Three years ago, in that fire, I traded half my face to save his life.

To Save My Boyfriend Through Plastic Surgery, He Insulted Me Instead

I awoke again, this time in a hospital bed.


My daughter clutched my hand, crying, "Mom, Mom..."


I tried to reach out and stroke her head, but my body felt as heavy as lead.


The doctor's voice broke the silence: "Ms. Langdon, your condition isn't looking good."


I turned to look at him, but my vision was blurry and unclear.


"The wound hasn't healed, and there's recurring infection. Your body can't handle any more delays. The best option is to perform a skin graft as soon as possible."


"If we don't operate now, the infection could spread and become life-threatening," the doctor's voice was grave. "You may only have... three months left."


Time seemed to stand still in that moment.


I mustered all my strength to squeeze her little hand, my lips moving but unable to produce sound.


Chapter 6