Chapter 4 - Dani
Everything feels muted as I surface slowly.
Rather than flooding in at once, it’s more like drifting up through something heavy after being weighed down, leaving my thoughts sluggish and garbled.
The distant ringing in my ears is soft at first, then it becomes louder as I try to focus.
My body doesn’t feel like mine.
That’s the first real thought that lingers in my mind, even while nothing makes sense yet.
It’s all slightly wrong, like my limbs are too heavy and numb. I can’t move like my entire body is made of stone, and my throat is dry like I haven’t had water in days.
I try to move my hand, but it barely twitches.
Panic flickers weakly in the back of my mind, but it’s muted and dulled by whatever is still in my system. My eyes stay closed for a few seconds longer as I try to piece things together, but more than anything, I want my full awareness to return.
Finally, shapes and light start to form around me, and after a beat, I realize I’m staring up at a ceiling somewhere, and more feeling returns to my body.
Light hits me, but not harshly like the surgical room I remember. It’s softer and dimmer with the same warmth as a regular bedroom. It almost feels more like waking up at home after sleeping in.
Then, everything else registers, and it’s wrong.
Everything about this is wrong.
My gaze drifts slowly with an unfocused edge, then it sharpens as my vision adjusts to the space around me. The ceiling isn’t the sterile white I expect, and it definitely doesn’t look like something you’d find in a hospital.
My heart starts to pick up, uneven and unsteady, not completely sure why I’m starting to panic, but grasping at the dread slowly dribbling into my system.
I force my head to turn, and a quiet groan slips out as the motion sends a wave of dizziness crashing over me.
The room comes into view in fragments, including a large bed, dark furniture, and expensive-looking details that aren’t clinical enough. There aren’t any machines beeping beside me anymore, no curtain dividers, and no rolling trays of instruments.
Piece by piece, clarity settles in, and it hits me at once.
This isn’t a hospital room.
My heart rams against my ribs as I try to push myself up, but my body protests immediately, and I’m dragged back down again. My arms tremble uselessly before collapsing against the mattress.
“Easy.”
A male voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts, sounding far too calm for the amount of confusion swirling inside me.
My head jerks toward the sound, slower than I want it to be, but I make it happen anyway. My vision lags behind as I try to focus on the figure sitting beside the bed, and a wave of nausea hits me.
A man with dark hair and broad shoulders, dressed in all black, looks down at me, watching closely with a relaxed posture and sharp focus.
I don’t know him. I don’t know where I am.
Another man, this one shorter and more attentive than intimidating, comes into view as he looks me over, doing something I can’t quite make out.
“Where…” My voice cracks, coming out as barely more than a rasp. I swallow hard and wince at the dryness in my throat. “Where am I?”
Neither of them answers immediately, but the taller one keeps his hands in his pockets and watches from a step or two behind the other.
The slight hesitation that comes from him sends a fresh wave of unease through me.
“You’re safe,” he says finally, as if that’s all I need to know.
Safe.
Somehow, that feels like the opposite of the truth.
“Where am I?” I repeat, stronger this time, despite how my voice still shakes.
His gaze holds mine for a moment longer, like he’s measuring something, but he doesn’t give me the answers I want. Instead, he murmurs, “Rest. You’re still coming off the anesthesia.”
Anesthesia.
The word hits like an electrical current to the mind, and suddenly, everything starts rushing back in broken pieces.
The hospital, the doctors and nurses, my dad being wheeled into the operating room, and me…signing waivers to be his donor.
My stomach drops, and I’m suddenly grateful to be lying down still.
“The surgery,” I breathe as my heart slams harder now, as if it wants to break free from this moment. “My dad…where is he?”
The man watching doesn’t respond, and a cold, creeping dread starts to crawl up my spine, spreading like an illness inside me.
“Where is he?” I repeat, panic bleeding into my voice.
When he still doesn’t say anything, the other man stands up and backs away, reaching for a bag of some sort.
He moves equipment inside it, not looking at me before leaning closer to the other, and they exchange a few hushed words.
Then, the shorter one walks out, leaving me with the dark-haired man.
In the silent room, my chest rises and falls too fast, and each breath feels more shallow than the last as I stare at him.
“Who are you?” I ask after a moment,
He glances at me briefly, expression neutral, almost bored.
“Answer me,” I snap, the fear sharpening into something more frantic. “Where am I? What happened? Where is my dad?”
When he still doesn’t say anything, and only watches me with his hands lingering in his pockets like this is something casual to him, anger starts to trickle in.
My heart pounds in my ears as I stare at him, with every instinct screaming that something is very, very wrong.
“Who are you?” I ask again, my voice quieter now.
Silence punctuates the space, then he shifts subtly in place. “Liam.”
“Liam,” I repeat faintly, swallowing hard as I interpret that as a slight willingness to answer my questions. “Where am I?”
“You’re somewhere safe,” he says again.
I let out a shaky breath. “That doesn’t tell me anything.”
“It’s all you need to know for now.”
“No,” I shake my head weakly, frustration and fear tangling together to make me feel annoyingly helpless. “No, what matters is what happened. I was at the hospital, going into surgery for my dad. So why am I here?”
He doesn’t respond, and my stomach twists.
“Liam,” I press, raising my voice as much as I can while panic claws its way back up. “Tell me what’s going on. Is he okay? Did it work? Where is he?”
His jaw tightens in a barely noticeable gesture, but I catch it, and something inside me cracks.
“Is he okay?” I demand louder now, pushing myself up despite the way my body protests. Pain shoots through my head, but I ignore it. “Answer me!”
“Lie back,” Liam says, sharper now as he takes a small step closer, looking slightly more concerned than he has any right to be.
“No!” I snap, pushing through the ache. “Not until you tell me—”
“Danielle.”
My name comes out like a warning.
Hearing it from him, this stranger, makes my skin crawl. If he knows my name, that means he was involved somehow.
We both pause this time, like we’re trying to gauge the other’s next move. There are too many things he’s not saying, and it keeps me on edge.
My chest tightens, breaths coming faster and harder.
“I want the truth,” I say, each word trembling but firm as I try to stand my ground despite not knowing him or his intentions. “Right now.”
Liam looks at me with the kind of intensity that I can’t fully read, and whatever he sees there—likely fear, desperation, and the fact that I’m not going to stop—seems to make the decision for him.
Something shifts in his expression, looking more final than I expected.
Without warning, more dread floods me, and I suddenly don’t want to hear what he’s about to say. Somewhere deep down, it’s like I already know. At the same time, I need confirmation.
“Your father is dead.”
Despite how immediately the words sink in, feeling completely wrong, my mind rejects them instantly, refusing to even acknowledge them after everything.
“No,” I say automatically. “No, that’s not…that’s not possible.”
His gaze doesn’t waver, regardless of how devastating the news is. “They killed him at that clinic, and they were going to kill you, too.”
“No,” I repeat, louder this time as I shake my head hard despite the dizziness it brings. “No, you’re lying. They were supposed to use mine instead of the synthetic one. They said it was going to work, they—”
“They lied.”
“Stop it!” I shout, my voice cracking as tears burn at the corner of my eyes. “You don’t know that. You weren’t there!”
“I was.”
I pause at that, seeing through the confusion long enough to flag it. The room feels stiflingly quiet again.
Who is this man?
“What?”
“I was there,” he repeats, his confidence telling me it isn’t a lie. “I got you out before they could finish.”
My chest heaves as my thoughts scramble, trying to piece together something that makes sense. But nothing does. None of it.
I try to say something, but nothing feels significant enough to capture everything I’m feeling. The words won’t come out as they stick in my throat, nearly choking me.
His expression doesn’t soften, and it doesn’t change. That’s what breaks me even further, because if he was lying, there would be something else there. He would hesitate, or seem uncertain at the very least, but he doesn’t. There’s only honesty in those hazel eyes.
And I hate it.
“I want to go back,” I say suddenly, the words tumbling out in a rush before I can think it through. “Take me back to the hospital. I’ll talk to the doctors, I’ll—I need to see him—”
“You can’t.” Liam murmurs, as if it’s obvious.
“Why not?”
“Because there’s nothing to see.”
The finality in his tone feels more like a slap to the face, and whatever semblance of control I had of myself slips.
“No!” I scream, the sound tearing out of me as tears finally spill over. Without meaning to, I end up on my feet, and I shove at him weakly, my hands hitting his chest with little force. “I don’t even know you, and you expect me to just believe you? That he’s just gone?”
His hands come up, not grabbing me but steadying me as I sway, expression shifting like he didn’t want it to come to this. “Danielle—”
“Don’t!” I snap, jerking away from him as much as I can, regardless of how I stagger. “Don’t say my name like you know me.”
My chest feels like it’s caving in, and every breath becomes a struggle.
This isn’t real. It can’t be.
“He’s not dead,” I say again, softer now as I shake my head and refuse to accept anything else. “He’s not…he can’t be. I was right there, and I was going to save him. I was—”
My voice breaks completely, and a sob rips through me before I can stop it. Doubling over, I clutch at the blankets on the bed as my entire body trembles.
“I was supposed to save him,” I whisper, the words barely audible as I lower myself to the bed and cover my eyes. “I was supposed to fix it…”
All the while, silence fills the room. Liam just stands there, watching without saying a word. Rather than disinterest, it feels more like he really doesn’t know what to say.
“I don’t want to see you,” I mutter after a moment, feeling more numb than I ever have before.
He doesn’t argue, and he doesn’t defend himself either. He doesn’t say anything at all.
After a long moment, he takes a step back, then another until he’s at the door.
I barely register it through the haze of grief, panic, and disbelief, but it isn’t enough. He’s still too close and still a physical reminder of the fact that my life has just been pulled out from under me.
“Leave,” I choke out, turning my face away. “Just get out.”
There’s a pause, then the door opens and closes right after, and he’s gone.
Just like that, I’m alone, and the silence that follows is deafening enough to make everything in me ache.
I curl in on myself as much as my body will allow and clutch the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.
My dad is dead. Gone.
But no matter how many times I try to deny it, that look on Liam’s face won’t leave my mind.
I don’t know how to begin living in a world where it’s true.