She Wore My Kidney, I Wore Her Ruin Chapter 01

She Wore My Kidney, I Wore Her Ruin Chapter 01 The Sister I No Longer Had
“Clara, someone’s outside asking for you. She says she’s your sister.”
I froze for half a second. Then I shook my head.
“Wrong person. I don’t have a sister. Competitors have been sniffing around lately. It might be someone from a rival firm. Make up an excuse and send her away.”
My coworker understood at once and hurried off to handle it.
But I knew she was not a competitor.
Our relationship had ended three years ago, the day she believed a lie and accused me of seducing her husband.
An email notification popped up on my phone. I opened it and almost laughed.
She really had worked hard. She had even dug up my Gmail.
“Clara, back then I was stupid and blinded by love. I listened to that bastard twist everything and turn me against you. I hurt you, and I—”
I deleted it before I finished reading.
Back then, I had explained until my throat went raw. She refused to hear a single word.
And now she suddenly had a brain?
No. More likely, she needed something from me.
She refused to give up and kept sending messages. I uninstalled the app altogether.
At last, the world went quiet.
After work, I got into a cab. The driver glanced in the rearview mirror and warned me, “That black sedan behind us has been following us for a while. Do you know them?”
I turned and saw the familiar license plate.
“No,” I said flatly. “They probably just want to pass.”
“Got it. Let’s see if they can.”
The driver hit the gas. He knew the streets well, and before long, he shook the car off. Only then did I let out the breath I had been holding.
When I got home, my cousin, Eleanor, called.
“Clara, did she come looking for you? Two days ago, she fell to her knees outside my place and begged me for your contact information. I tore into her and chased her off.
“How does she even have the nerve? After what she did to you, I couldn’t stand watching it. And now she still dares to show her face?”
I stayed calm.
“She tried. I didn’t see her. I won’t see her. Not now. Not ever.”
I touched the scar on my side. A dull ache throbbed beneath my fingers.
I took a slow breath and forced the memories down.
On the other end, Eleanor sighed.
“I know. No one in the family wants anything to do with her now. But Uncle Arthur’s birthday is the day after tomorrow. Are you coming?”
I hesitated.
Eleanor added, “You haven’t come home in years. Everyone misses you.”
Right. Three years.
I had not gone back once.
The work at the company was almost wrapped up. I was about to transfer to the overseas branch. Before I left, I should see them one more time.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll come.”
After hanging up, I exhaled deeply.
Just then, a text came in.
“Clara, let’s meet. No matter how much you hate me, I’m still your sister.”
“I know I wronged you three years ago. I don’t dare ask for forgiveness. I only hope you’ll see me. I don’t have much time left.”
When I saw that line, I almost laughed.
I don’t have much time left.
That line again.
Years ago, when she was dying, she had knelt in front of me and said the same thing. She said she had little time left and only wanted to spend more of it with me.
After our parents died in an accident, it had been just the two of us.
Then she developed end-stage kidney failure.
I gave her one of my kidneys.
Three years ago, she had cried until she could barely breathe. She swore to the sky that I was her savior, that she would never betray me in this lifetime.
And what happened?
The scar on my side reminded me clearly.
She was not worth forgiving.
I ignored her and blocked the number.
But I never expected her to show up at my door.
That night, noises came from the entryway. Through the video doorbell, I saw her standing outside.
Three years had hollowed her out. She looked gaunt, her cheeks sunken, her whole body thinner than I remembered.
“Clara, I know you’re in there! Come out. Let me see you!
“I was wrong. I never should have accused you. Come out, and I’ll kneel. I’ll beg. I’ll apologize however you want.”
“Clara! Even if you hate me, we’re still sisters! Have you forgotten? When you were little and accidentally ate vegetables sprayed with pesticide, I was the one who saved you!”
Her words dragged me back to the year I was five.
Our parents had gone out to work. Before they left, they sprayed pesticide on the vegetable patch by the door.
I was too young to understand. While playing, I pulled a few vegetables, ate them, and passed out from poisoning.
My sister carried me on her back to find an adult.
That was how I survived.