My Daughter's Fake Kidney Failure: A Twisted Plot for My Organs

My daughter was diagnosed with kidney failure and urgently needed a transplant. When I found out I was a match, I was overjoyed to lie on the operating table.

But when I woke up, I heard my daughter’s cheerful laughter.

“Dad, has Aunt Rachel woken up yet? How’s the transplanted kidney working? Finally, we don’t have to pretend in front of Mom anymore. Once Aunt Rachel recovers, we’ll go to the amusement park together!”

My blood ran cold.

It turns out my husband and daughter had staged this act to get me to donate a kidney to someone else.

If that’s how it is, I don’t want this family anymore.

0 The smell of antiseptic assaulted my nostrils as I struggled to open my heavy eyelids. In the pitch-black hospital room, I could only see the faint moonlight filtering through the window.

I slowly pushed myself up, a searing pain radiating from the incision site.

“Emily…” I instinctively called out my daughter’s name, but my throat was too dry to form complete words.

I called out for a while, but no one responded.

Just as I was about to lie back down, I suddenly heard familiar voices from the hallway.

“Dad, Mom won’t find out, right?”

That voice made my whole body freeze. It was clear, cheerful, with a lightness I had never heard before.

It was my daughter’s voice.

I stumbled out of bed, ignoring the possibility of tearing my stitches. Staggering to the door, I peered through the glass panel and saw her swinging a phone in her hand.

Bouncing around… nothing like a patient who had just received a kidney transplant.

“Dad, Mom’s still asleep. I snuck out to make a phone call!”

“Has Aunt Rachel woken up? Is she feeling okay anywhere? Finally, we don’t have to pretend in front of Mom anymore. Aunt Rachel, do you think I did a good job pretending these past few months?”

“Mom’s kidney is finally with you!”

“Aunt Rachel, once you’re better, we’ll go to the amusement park together!”

Suddenly, my mind went blank. Every word felt like a nail being driven into my eardrums.

I couldn’t believe these words were coming from the mouth of the daughter I had lovingly raised for 10 years.

Pretending in front of Mom? Did a good job pretending?

Aunt Rachel?

Was that my best friend of over a decade?

My kidney is with her?

I bit my lip hard.

So for you, this so-called “illness” was just an act you put on?

A sharp pain shot through the surgical wound on my waist, but I could no longer feel it.

My entire body felt as if it had been submerged in ice water, chilled to the bone.

Emily hung up the phone, humming a happy tune.

As she turned around, I forcefully dragged myself back to the bed, pulling the covers over myself.

The door was gently pushed open.

“Mom? Are you awake?” Emily’s voice was deliberately lowered, carrying a fake concern.

I kept my eyes tightly shut, struggling to control my breathing.

“Still asleep, thank goodness…” She immediately sighed in relief, then started humming again as she left.

The sound of footsteps gradually faded away.

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