Silent Donor

On the day I'm found to be a compatible donor for my mom, who's suffering from late-stage leukemia, I run away from home.

Dad keeps looking everywhere for me. But in the end, he has to watch Mom die in despair.

Later on, Dad focuses on his research in leukemia, which brings him huge success. On top of that, he even adopts an understanding and capable young man as his own son.

When we eventually meet again, it's at a research meeting about leukemia that's hosted by Dad.

As he stares at my body on the table, he can't help but chuckle icily.

"Julian Rivers, this isn't a place where you can screw around. Get up and get lost right now!"

The host just stares at Dad, completely stunned.

"You know the identity of this corpse, Dr. Rivers?"

Dad flashes him a mocking smile.

"How much did Julian pay you just to go along with the act, huh?"

The poor host doesn't know what to do.

"But Dr. Rivers, Mr. Julian Rivers already died three days ago…"

Dad furrowed his brows.

"This is a medical conference, not some prank show, right? The special effects makeup on Julian looks quite realistic. I almost fell for it."

As he spoke, his gaze swept imperceptibly across my face, and a flash of panic crossed his features. Finally, he forced out a stiff smile.

"So is this joke supposed to be a pleasant surprise or a nasty shock?"

The host cast a pleading look toward a nearby reporter. The reporter stepped onto the stage and took the microphone from the host's hand.

"Dr. Rivers, I'll answer your question shortly."

She turned to face the audience. "Hello everyone, I'm Tara Mitchell, a reporter and one of the organizers of this event. Next, we'll be playing a message left by our body donor."

The large screen on stage began to display footage. In the video, I sat on a beach, looking toward the camera.

"Hello everyone, I'm Julian Rivers. I love sunshine, the sky, and the ocean, so as you can see, isn't the sea behind me beautiful? Actually, I wanted to visit the beach with my parents for a vacation.

"But that can never happen now. Still, it's okay. I brought a photo of my parents, so I can pretend they're here with me."

I carefully pulled out a photograph from my bag and held it up to the camera. "By the way, my father is a truly remarkable man, and also—"

Before I could finish speaking, I suddenly tilted my head back and collapsed. The camera began shaking violently, and panicked voices erupted off-screen.

"He's passed out! Quick! Get him to a hospital!"

"I told you not to let him come here, but you indulged him anyway!"

The next instant, my face appeared on camera, pulling a silly expression. "Ha! Fooled you all."

My laughter froze mid-smile, my expression stiffening. "Dad, if we have the chance... Could we drink together again?"

The video froze on the image of my reddened eyes. Dad's face remained expressionless.

"Ms. Mitchell, this is an academic symposium, not some family reunion show."

Immediately, murmurs rippled through the audience.

"Isn't that Dr. Rivers' son? I heard Julian was a bone marrow match for his mother. If he'd just done the transplant, his mother wouldn't have died at all."

"He's nothing but an ungrateful wretch who wouldn't even save his own biological mother."

"What's he doing showing up at an academic symposium to put on this performance?"

"He probably saw how Dr. Rivers is famous now and wants money."

"Could that body donor really be Julian Rivers?"

"Even if he's dead, he deserved it. What did he expect for refusing to save his own mother? Karma, that's what."

But I wasn't unwilling to donate bone marrow to Mom. I simply wasn't qualified to. If I could have, I would have traded my own life for her health.

But I couldn't even save myself.

Listening to the murmurs below, Dad's expression shifted. He reached out as if to touch my body, but Tara suddenly interrupted his movement.

"Dr. Rivers, please finish watching the documentary first. We hope that through Mr. Rivers' cancer documentary, everyone can truly enter the world of leukemia patients."

The screen changed, and suddenly chaotic music blared. It was a rowdy bar.

I carried a tray laden with drinks, weaving through the dancing crowd. Even wearing a mask couldn't hide my deathly pale complexion. The next second, I grabbed a drink and splashed it toward the camera, my eyes full of impatience.

"Can you please stop interfering with my work?"

"You're Julian Rivers, right? Hello, I'm Tara Mitchell, a reporter with the Cancer Awareness Organization. I'm currently filming a documentary about leukemia patients.

"If you're willing to let us film you, we can cover all your treatment costs."

The woman's voice was gentle and sincere. I stared at the camera and asked, "If I cooperate with your filming, can you give me the treatment money in cash instead?"

Silence fell on the other side of the camera. I gave a wry smile and picked up my tray to continue working. It wasn't until 2:00 am that I dragged my exhausted body out through the bar's front door.

The woman approached me again. "Julian, do you need the money because you're in some kind of trouble? I might be able to help you."

The moment I looked up, blood suddenly gushed from my nose. A cry of alarm came from behind the camera.

"Julian!"