My Bones Screamed for Justice

The dawn of my surgery, Ethan signed the consent form. Not to save me C but to take my bone marrow.

After his sister, Chloe, was diagnosed with severe aplastic anemia, he and my stepmother, Victoria, conspired to trick me into the hospital.

My bone marrow saved Chloe. I, on the other hand, developed a post-op infection and never left my bed again.

I was barely twenty-six, and my immune system had completely crashed.

The day the infection spread, he told me our entire marriage was for Chloes illness, that hed checked my genetic match before marrying me.

He said, "Your bone marrow saved a life. It was worth it."

Perhaps my very bones were screaming for justice on my behalf.

When I opened my eyes again, Id moved out of that city before he could find me.

As for Chloes illness, this time, let's see how you protect her.

"Skylar, your dads last words, the night he left us, were for me to take good care of you."

My phone screen lit up for three seconds. Incoming call, my stepmother, Victoria.

I answered.

"What do you want?"

"Ive been looking for you for two years, and you haven't returned a single call. If your dad knew how you were treating me"

"He won't know now."

A few seconds of silence on her end.

"Skylar, there's someone who wants to meet you. He says you're fated to meet."

"His name is Ethan."

The name drilled into my ear like an ice pick stabbing the back of my neck.

"He says you two are a good match to get to know each other. His family is in pharmaceuticals, he's a good person, Ive vetted him for you"

I hit End Call. Turned off my phone. Threw it in the drawer.

Two years. New city, new number, new company. I thought Id run far enough.

The next day at work, a bouquet of white Eustoma flowers sat on my desk.

Harper poked her head over from the next cubicle. "Who sent them? A delivery guy came up specially early this morning."

I flipped open the card at the bottom of the bouquet. Printed text, one sentence.

"Hello, Skylar."

No signature. But I recognized the flowers.

In my last life, at our wedding, he personally chose white Eustoma as the main flower. Their language was unchanging love.

I tossed the card and the flowers into the trash.

Harper nearly spat out her coffee. "That's decisive, even for you."

"The sender isn't a good person."

"An ex?"

"Worse than an ex."

Her eyebrows furrowed, and her mouth opened, but she didn't press for details.

At noon, I went out for coffee. A black car was parked outside the shop.

The window rolled down halfway, revealing a face Id seen repeatedly in countless nightmares.

He had high brows, a straight nose, and a sharp jawline.

The first time I saw him in my last life, my heart skipped a beat. Now, seeing him, all I felt was a sour twist in my stomach.

"Skylar." He called my name the exact same way as in my last life, with a slight upward lilt at the end.

"Who are you?"

"Ethan. Your stepmother should have mentioned me."

"Shes mentioned a lot of scammers."

He gave a small smile. The kind that was gentle, disarming. He used to smile like that, making you drop your guard instantly.

"Im not a scammer. I just wanted to buy you a coffee."

"No thanks."

"Five minutes is all I need." He looked at me, utterly sincere. "There's something I absolutely have to tell you in person. It's about you."

About you. Thats how he started last time. A hook impossible to refuse, luring me willingly into his cage.

"You checked my genetic match."

His pupils contracted. But quickly returned to normal.

"What match? I don't understand."

"If you don't understand, why are you looking for me?"

"Just to get acquainted." He pulled a business card from his pocket and held it out. "I'm working on a rare disease charity foundation"

"New packaging, same old trick."

His hand froze in mid-air.

"Last life, you used a class reunion."

The moment those words slipped out, I knew Id said too much.

"Last life?" His brows subtly furrowed.

"I meant the last time. The last time you contacted Victoria, you made up an excuse then too."

No one took the business card. He retracted his hand and looked at me for a few seconds.

"Skylar, you've misunderstood me."

"No. I understand you perfectly."

I turned and walked three steps before his voice caught up from behind. Not rushed or annoyed, even carrying a hint of a smile.

"Skylar, my sister is dying."

I stopped.

Not out of softness. But because hed never said those words in my last life.

Back then, hed wrapped the truth in ten layers of sugar coating, waiting until I was married, on the operating table, to tear off the paper.

"Her name is Chloe, shes twenty-three, and she has severe aplastic anemia. No one in our family is a match. The national bone marrow registry can't find a suitable donor either."

His voice was as calm as if he were reading a medical chart.

"Only you. Your HLA match is perfect with hers. Ten out of ten loci, a complete match. That's a one in a hundred thousand probability."

The wind blew. My coffee grew cold.

He stood in the late autumn light, smiling gently, like a kind-hearted person asking for help.

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Your genes can save her."

"They're my genes. Not your tools."

His smile finally cracked.

"I never thought of you as a tool."

I turned and walked into the office building. The moment the glass doors closed, I saw the expression on his face in the reflection. It was no longer gentle.

"Skylar, if you don't help her, can you live with yourself?"

"What did you say to him yesterday?"

Victorias call came in again. This time, I didnt hang up.

I needed to know what cards she still held.

"I didnt say anything."

"He told me you mentioned a genetic match. How would you know about that?"

I leaned against the tiled wall in the restroom, my voice steady.

"He let it slip himself."

"He also said you said some very strange things. Skylar, have you been listening to rumors?"

"What rumors?"

"Some people say the Victor family is using you. Thats nonsense. Ethan is a respectable man, his family runs a pharmaceutical group"

"So, how much did you take?"

Silence on her end for two seconds.

"Skylar, why do you always think that about Mom?"

"Just tell me."

Her tone sharpened a little, like Id stepped on her tail. "Skylar, after your dad passed, I was left to shoulder everything! You ran off for two years, leaving me to handle the mortgage and utilities alone. The Victor family is just being charitable"

"You call selling my medical report to someone else 'charitable'?"

"Who sold it? Who sold it!" Her voice became shrill. "Your dad asked me to keep it for you! Ethan came asking about you, and I was just showing concern"

"You even told him which hospital I had my check-ups at."

"That was"

"Thyroid function, complete blood count, full immune panel. And HLA typing. Victoria, ordinary people don't get HLA tests unless it's for an organ or bone marrow transplant."

The breathing on the other end caught. A long silence followed.

She switched her tone, softening, easing, like shed put on a different mask.

"Skylar, even if I did something wrong, that girl is really dying. I saw her photos, shes only twenty-three, just skin and bones"

"It has nothing to do with me."

"Can't you just go for a match confirmation? Its just a simple blood draw"

"Thats what you told me last time."

The words slipped out, and I immediately clamped my mouth shut.

"Last time? What last time?"

"Nothing."

"Skylar, you've been talking stranger and stranger lately. 'Last life,' 'last time'"

"Im hanging up."

I turned off my phone and stood at the sink for two minutes.

My knuckles were turning white. Id let it slip again. Every time I faced these two, memories from my last life surged out, uncontrollable.

In the afternoon, Harper returned from outside, her face troubled.

"Skylar, theres a woman downstairs. She says shes your mother."

"Shes not."

"She was crying really hard. Security asked if she wanted them to call the police, and she said her daughter hadn't come home in two years, and she just wanted to see her."

I walked to the window.

Victoria stood at the office building entrance. Plain dress, no makeup, red-rimmed eyes, clutching an old worn bag.

A forty-seven-year-old woman, her hair perfectly neat, her scarf tucked into her collar, exposing only a sliver of her collarbone.

Light makeup, simple clothesa perfect picture of a wronged, devoted mother.

She adjusted her glasses, borrowed a tissue from a passerby to wipe her tears, and thanked them three times as they handed it to her.

Such a good performance.

"Keep an eye on her for me," I told Harper. "See who she contacts."

Harper hesitated. "She really isn't your mom?"

"My mom died nineteen years ago."

Harper didnt ask again.

I slipped out the back door of the office building and hid in the convenience store across the street. Through the glass, I saw Victoria pull out her phone.

The call lasted less than thirty seconds. After hanging up, she glanced up at the office building, and her lips curved slightly.

Not the kind of smile someone genuinely crying would have.

Ten minutes later, the black car appeared at the intersection.

Ethan got out of the car and walked to her side. They exchanged a few words.

He handed her an envelope. Victoria took it, looked down at it, and smiled.

She accepted the envelope much faster than shed wiped away her tears.

I pulled out my phone and took a photo. Time, location, both their faces.

Harper sent me a message: "She left, with another guy. Do you know him?"

"Yes."

"Should you call the police?"

"Not yet."

Back at the office, a brown envelope sat on my desk. Not a delivery. Someone had placed it there directly while I was out.

I tore it open. A hospital report. Not mine.

Chloe's. Her white blood cell count was alarmingly low. Platelets almost zero. A note was attached at the end.

"Skylar, she only has two months left. You are her only hope."

On the back was another small line: "If you don't come, her blood is on your hands."

Harper leaned over. "What is it?"

I flipped the note over and showed her the last line.

She stared at it for five seconds.

"Is that a threat, seriously?"

"Miss Skylar, someone's here to see you. In the conference room."

The receptionist's voice carried a subtle peculiarity. Colleagues along the hallway were all secretly glancing in that direction.

I pushed open the conference room door.

A thin, frail girl sat in a chair. Her face was sallow, her lips almost bloodless. Her hands showed bruised marks from IV lines.

Chloe. She looked even more gaunt than I remembered from my last life.

She saw me, and her eyes immediately reddened.

"Miss Skylar." Her voice was so weak it sounded like a puff of wind could scatter it. "I know I shouldn't have come to you directly."

Next to her sat a middle-aged woman. Her makeup was meticulously applied, but beneath it was an undisguised scrutinizing gaze.

"And who are you?"

The woman stood up, extending her hand. "Im Chloes mother, Eleanor. Thank you for agreeing to see us."

I didn't take her hand.

Eleanor's hand hung in the air for two seconds, then retracted. The smile on her face didn't falter.

Chloe lowered her head, a tear falling onto her oversized cardigan. Beneath the cardigan, the blue and white stripes of a hospital gown were visible.

"Im not here to beg you. I just wanted to see what you look like with my own eyes."

"Why look at me?"

"Ethan said your genetic match is perfect with mine."

"I didnt know about this before. I looked up a lot of information, and bone marrow donation usually causes minimal harm to the donor"

"Usually."

She paused.

"You said usually." I looked at her face. "Did you also look up the probability of post-op infection? Did you read about cases where donors' immune systems crashed?"

Chloes lips moved, but she didnt respond.

Eleanor interjected. "Miss Skylar, medical conditions are very advanced now. The post-op infection rate in large hospitals is less than one percent. We will hire the best specialists"

"Your daughter's life matters, but mine doesn't?"

The conference room fell silent for two seconds.

Eleanors expression shifted subtly, then quickly morphed into a more polished smile. She took a bank card from her bag and pushed it across the table.

"Miss Skylar, youre right. So we want to talk to you properly. Compensation-wise, just name your price."

I glanced at the card.

"You think bone marrow can be priced."

"It's not pricing! It's gratitude"

"Your gratitude involves first buying my genetic information, then having Ethan approach me under the guise of a charity foundation. Whats next? Is the next step arranging a blind date?"

Eleanors hand froze on the table. Chloe looked up.

"Miss Skylar, what are you saying? Ethan wouldn't"

"Chloe, do you know how Ethan found me?"

Her lips trembled.

"He said it was through the bone marrow registry."

"Ive never registered with any bone marrow registry."

Her eyelashes fluttered.

The conference room door was pushed open.

Ethan walked in. His gaze swept over Eleanor and Chloe, finally landing on me.

"Mom, I told you not to bring Chloe."

There was restrained annoyance in his voice. He then turned to me, his expression switching to that infuriatingly gentle one.

"Skylar, Im sorry. Theyre just too desperate."

He was always playing the good guy.

"Skylar, I know youre wary of me." He sat opposite me, hands clasped. "But this isn't just between you and me. There's a twenty-three-year-old life at stake."

"That life has nothing to do with me."

"Your genes can save her."

"Those are my genes, not your pharmacy."

His jawline tightened for a moment.

Chloe suddenly began to cough violently. Eleanor quickly supported her. She turned to me and yelled, "Look at her! Look at what she's become"

"Mom!" Ethan said in a low, sharp voice.

Chloe pressed her hand to her mouth, her fingertips stained with blood. She looked up and gave me a faint smile.

"Miss Skylar, its okay. If you don't want to, I dont blame you."

That sentence was more effective than all the pleas and accusations.

Because when she smiled, there was something in her eyes.

Not pleading, but certainty.

She was certain I would compromise, just like in my last life.

"Conference room time is up. Please leave."

When I walked out the door, everyone in the hallway was watching.

Someone whispered, their voice not too loud, not too soft, just loud enough for me to hear.

"That girl is so pathetic, dying of leukemia, why won't she save her"

"It's just a little bone marrow donation."

My steps paused, then I continued walking.

Ethans voice followed me from behind, gentle, considerate, for all my colleagues to hear.

"Skylar, whenever you change your mind, contact me. I'll be waiting."

"Skylar!" Harper grabbed me as soon as she arrived at the office, her palms cold. "You're trending."

She handed me her phone.

A post. Over three thousand shares.

The title: "My sister can save me, but she refused."

The profile picture was a blurry hospital photo. The text was long.

The gist wasshe had severe aplastic anemia, and her entire family was a mismatch. She finally found the only perfect donor in a vast sea of people and gathered all her courage to meet them. The other person refused.

The post didn't mention my name. But it listed the city, the industry, and the specific building and district where my company was located.

The comments section was flooded.

"It's just a bone marrow donation that can save a life, how can she refuse?"

"It might not be illegal, but what about her conscience?"

"This kind of person should be dragged through the mud online."

I handed the phone back to Harper.

"What do we do?" she whispered. "HR has already inquired. Asking if you're the person in the post."

"It's me."

"Skylar"

"Don't panic yet. Help me find something out. This post was made yesterday at 11:47 PM. Can you trace the IP address?"

"I'll try."

At ten o'clock that morning, my supervisor called me into his office.

"Skylar, the company is facing a lot of public pressure right now. Clients have seen it too."

He pushed up his glasses. "Can you take a leave of absence for now? Come back after things have settled down."

"How long?"

"It depends."

I didn't argue. Arguing was useless.

The post was precise down to the floor number. Anyone who could do that either had been to the company or had an insider.

While packing my things, my phone rang. It was Victoria.

"Skylar, you saw the online situation, right?" There was a prickle of smugness in her voice. "I think that girl has a point"

"Did you help her post it?"

"Not me. But running away like this isn't a solution."

"How much money did you take, exactly?"

"Skylar!"

I gripped the phone, my knuckles white.

"How much did the Victor family give you? Name your price."

She fell silent for three seconds. Then her voice dropped, as if she finally gave up pretending.

"Five hundred thousand. They gave me five hundred thousand upfront. Said they'd give another five hundred thousand once it was done."

A million.

My bone marrow was worth a million. She probably got the same price in my last life. Only, I died then without ever knowing.

"Skylar, just do me a favor"

"You're not my mom."

I hung up.

At noon, the office door was pushed open. Two people in white coats stood at the entrance.

"Excuse me, are you Ms. Skylar? We're the medical check-up agency that partners with your company, here for the annual employee check-ups today."

My supervisor stood behind them, nodding at me. "Since you haven't left yet, you might as well get your check-up done."

I looked at their faces. I'd been to the company's partnered check-up agency twice before, and I'd never seen these two.

"There's no check-up scheduled for today."

"It's a last-minute addition." The man in the white coat smiled. "Just a blood draw, it'll be quick."

Blood draw. One of the ways to confirm HLA matching is a blood test.

"Im not doing it."

"Miss Skylar"

"I said no."

I picked up my bag and started to walk out. The man moved half a step, blocking the doorway.

"Itll take three minutes." He already had a blood collection tube and tourniquet in his hand.

Harpers voice came from outside. "Which medical agency are you from? Show me your ID badge."

"This colleague"

"Are you going to show me? If not, I'm calling 911."

A commotion erupted outside the door. I squeezed past the man, Harper grabbed my arm, and we both rushed into the elevator.

The moment the elevator doors closed, I saw Ethans figure in the lobby.

He leaned by the reception desk, hands in his pockets. Seeing my gaze, he subtly tilted his head.

A slight curve of his lips. Not an apology, but a silent "you can't escape."

Harper shoved me into her car. She drove for ten minutes before stopping in an underground parking garage.

"Those two people's ID numbers were fake. I already called the check-up company, and they said there were no plans scheduled for today."

She handed me a bottle of water. I twisted it open and drank half.

"Skylar, what exactly is going on? Tell me everything, from the beginning."

I looked at her.

There weren't many people left in this world I trusted. In my last life, I didn't even have a single friend.

"You'll be scared if I tell you."

"Just tell me."

I recounted everything. Except for the part about being reborn.

Harper listened, silent for a long time.

"He used your stepmother as an insider to get your genetic data. After confirming the match, he looked for you for two years. Now his sister can't wait any longer, and he's even faking medical check-ups, trying to forcibly take your blood."

"Yeah."

"That's a crime."

"I know."

"Then why aren't you calling the police right now?"

I looked out at the dark parking garage.

Call the police. I had in my last life too. The police came, he pulled out our marriage certificate and called it a domestic dispute. Victoria stood next to him, nodding along. No one spoke up for me.

"Let's wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Wait for him to think I'm truly at my wit's end."

Harper stared at me for a long time.

"Skylar, are you playing chess?"

"Something like that."

"Then what do you need?"

"Someone to set up cameras for me."