Press On

Despite the pain, I crawled into the elevator. The group chasing me nearly caught up, but the doors slid shut just before their hands could reach me.

Sweat soaked through my shirt as pain surged through my body, clinging tightly to my skin. Watching the floor numbers climb, I finally let out a breath of relief.

The pain in my legs was giving way to a sense of numbness, and I knew time was running out.

The disembodied voice announced, "11th Floor, Donation Department."

The scream for help died in my throat as the doors slid away to reveal the trio standing outside. "Where do you think you're going, Dr. Greenwood?"

They were all breathing hard, but I felt as if my very soul had frozen with fear.

"God, you can run. Good thing we caught up to you, Dr. Greenwood."

"Stop messing around, Cynthia. Donation isn't a game. I can't let you kill yourself!"

"What's wrong with your legs, Dr. Greenwood?" Yvonne asked gently, though there was nothing gentle in her eyes. "Maybe we should take you back and comfort you."

Twenty minutes left until the surgery. Twenty minutes left until the cancer transfer was done. If I missed this window, I was done for.

The trio hauled me and tried to shove me into the elevator. They wanted to close the doors, but I forced them open, even as my arms screamed in pain. Desperate, like someone clinging to the last straw of hope, I crawled forward.

I sank my nails into my captors as I screamed, "Help!"

The donation department did not have many staff to begin with, and the workday was almost over. Most people were resting in their offices, and my cries went unheard.

Zoey, wincing from the damage my nails had done to her, slapped me as hard as she could. "God, you're a nuisance! Your nails are killing me! You did this to yourself."

My arms were still on fire, but I refused to let the doors close. The trio's impatience was mounting. They slammed their feet onto my hands in an attempt to make me let it go.

"You're impossibly stubborn!" Zoey grabbed her pen and uncapped it. Just when she was about to jab it right into my hand, a deep voice echoed from afar.

"This is a hospital! What are you doing, arguing like banshees?"

Tears of joy nearly streamed down my cheeks, but they dried up once I saw who the man was.

"What are you doing here, Donald?"

Donald had my consent letter in his hands. His face was a storm in contrast to Yvonne's smile.

"This is overkill, Cynthia. The head of the donation department called me and asked me to talk you out of it. How embarrassing."

Yvonne let out a breath of relief, then quickly put on the expression of someone unfairly wronged. "We just wanted to take her back, but she refused to let us. We don't want her to do anything rash."

Her admirers played along and complained about how difficult I was. Donald's expression darkened even further.

Time was running out. I pleaded with Donald. "Please, for old times' sake, take me back so I can rest. Please."

Dealing with Donald was a lot better than the alternative named Yvonne.

There was shock in his eyes. I had always been independent and seldom relied on anyone. Of course, I'd never begged for his help before.

He was going to pull me up, but Yvonne pushed his hand down. "You have an operation to handle. We can take her back."

Donald smacked his head. "God, I nearly forgot about that. Thanks, Yvonne. You're sweet. I'll leave her to you."

"No, no, no!"

Donald ignored my protests, but he crouched and pushed my disheveled hair aside. "Be a good girl. I'll pick you up later."

Then he walked off and didn't turn around no matter how much I begged. The doors slowly slid shut, and Yvonne declared smugly, "No one's coming, Dr. Greenwood."

That look on her face reminded me of the hundreds of diseases I had endured in my previous life. I refused to go through that again.

I grabbed the pen Zoey threw away and stabbed my thigh. Blood dyed my pants red. The pain shocked my legs into moving for a moment.

While the three of them were caught off guard, I slipped through the narrowing gap just before the doors closed.

They tried to come after me, but the doors were firmly shut.

I dragged my body across the corridor, and then I heard their footsteps echo. Quickly, I darted into an empty ward nearby.

The trio was shouting, and their footsteps were getting nearer and nearer. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for a miracle.

Ten minutes left.

Then, someone tapped my shoulder. "Where are you going, Dr. Greenwood?"

Hope

My heart nearly stopped beating. Slowly, stiffly, I turned my head.

It was Adam Keelman, from the donation department. The sight of him brought me relief, and I sucked in air greedily. "Let's begin the surgery, Dr. Keelman."

That surprised him. "I thought you'd opted out. Did Dr. Flemont not talk to you? You shouldn't make any rash…"

I put a finger against his lips. There was no time, so I went straight to my final plea.

I dropped to my knees and begged him. "Please, you must help me. This is the only way I can survive. Please, you have to trust me."

Adam stared at me, wide-eyed with disbelief. I was rumpled and disheveled, and he heaved a sigh but eventually gave a nod.

I was already in the operating room when the trio came. The surgery was underway, and Yvonne punched the wall. "Damn it! We're too late!"

Zoey helped her up, cruel delight flashing in her eyes. "Let's go, Yvonne. You can't save her if she doesn't want to be saved. We've done what we could. No one can blame us."

"Yeah. If she's out of the way, you can get promoted to department head in no time flat. Don't forget about your friends."

Their ignorance only stoked Yvonne's rage. Their smugness irritated her so much that she wanted to sew their mouths shut. "Shut up, you morons!"

Yvonne strode off in a huff. Her followers looked confused and indignant, but still hurried after her.

…

I was under anesthesia the whole time, but I vaguely heard fragments of conversation. The doctors were gasping in astonishment. "Her kidneys rotted away right after we removed them!"

"Suture the wounds now!"

"Dear God, we removed both kidneys. She's dying."

Unbeknownst to them, my kidneys grew back right after the wounds were sewn up. A full minute passed after the ventilator stopped moving.

Then, loud, greedy breathing filled the room.

"Dr. Greenwood's vitals are returning! This is a miracle!"

The anesthesia faded and was replaced by agonizing pain. When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by medical staff staring at me as if they had just witnessed an extinct creature return to life.

"It's a miracle you're still living after you had both kidneys taken out."

"We've put you through a checkup. Your kidneys grew back."

The director kept it a secret and made sure the doctors who knew about the matter signed NDAs. Then he ordered them to never perform this kind of surgery on me again.

A woman with two sets of kidneys and a doctor pushed to the brink of suicide thanks to infighting weren't exactly going to help the hospital's reputation.

I touched my lower back and moved my legs a little. Yes, I could feel them now, and that was how I knew I'd won the gamble.

That told me all about how Yvonne healed her patients.

Aside from the doctors in the donation department, everyone believed the director had stopped me in time and that the donation had failed.

Donald and Yvonne paid me a visit while I was in recovery. He told me not to mess around and left, while she was still smug as ever.

"I have no idea how you found out, but I couldn't care less about a dying woman's secret. I managed to do it once. I can do it again."

I kept my head low and said nothing.

…

The next day, I got myself discharged and continued my recovery at home.

Yvonne was about to meet her reckoning.

Three days after the kidney cancer patient's surgery, the hospital made headlines. A huge crowd surrounded the entire building.

'Top hospital healer exposed as fraud. Kidney patient dies at home three days after surgery.'