He Stole My Kidney, I Reclaimed My Life

On New Year’s Eve, my husband, Daniel, personally handled the kidney transplant for me, his wife, who he claimed was suffering from uremia. As I was slowly regaining consciousness, I overheard the anesthesiologist and nurse talking. “Dr. Daniel was truly ruthless this time. He personally removed his wife’s healthy kidney to transplant into his mistress.” “I heard Audrey wasn’t sick at all; Dr. Daniel forged her medical records. The one truly in late-stage uremia was Holly.” “So now, what’s inside Audrey’s body is…” “Holly’s failing kidney. Dr. Daniel personally sewed it in.” I simply couldn’t believe my ears. The moment I opened my eyes, I struggled to prop myself up, a tearing pain erupting in my abdomen. “Daniel, I’m asking you, was I ever sick?!” My voice was hoarse. “Not before, but now you are.” He walked to my bedside. “Holly’s kidney, stage four uremia. I personally put it in you.” After saying that, Daniel turned and left. Watching his retreating back, my heart turned to ash. I sent a message to a phone number I hadn’t contacted in ten years: “I want to leave Daniel, and go with you. But before I go, Daniel has to pay!”