My Sister Faked Illness for My Bone Marrow and My Husband

After being brought home by my biological parents, I thought I'd finally get the love I'd been missing.

But no matter what I did, they only blamed me for bullying my adopted sister. My husband would just look at me with disgust.

They thought I was cruel and evil. When my adopted sister was diagnosed with leukemia, they forced me to donate bone marrow to her.

I was forced to eat and exercise, gaining twenty pounds in half a month.

My adopted sister suddenly looked at me and said, "Sis, to tell you the truth, I don't have leukemia at all. I'm just playing with you. When you die on the operating table, I'll be with your husband."

I felt so sick I wanted to die.

But I couldn't die.

I had to survive.

I had to crawl out of this hell alive!

1

Annual checkup.

Everyone was waiting for the results in a luxury ward at the private hospital.

The smell of disinfectant was a bit unpleasant. My mom was affectionately feeding sliced apples to my sister, Samantha Bell, while my Dad was looking at her with so much love.

"Kelly, can you stop looking so grim all the time? It's annoying just looking at you." Matthew's voice was full of impatience. He didn't even bother to look up at me.

I had just had my blood drawn, and my fingers were turning pale from pressing the cotton swab.

Just as I was about to speak, Mom shouted from across the room, "Samantha's feeling dizzy. Is her blood sugar low? Quick, get some sugar water!"

Hearing this, Matthew instantly dropped his cold expression and strode over, gently supporting Samantha. "What's wrong? You were fine just now, weren't you?"

Watching my sister surrounded by everyone, I quietly leaned against the cold wall.

This was my life.

Even though I was afraid of blood, I still had to fight back the urge to vomit and faint, forcing myself to stay conscious.

Sure, I was a Bell, their biological daughter. But I knew they wouldn't really care about me.

Even my husband Matthew saw me as just a background character, a "sister" and "wife."

After I was kidnapped by human traffickers as a child, my parents quickly adopted a daughter to fill my place.

I thought when we reunited years later, they would make up for the family warmth I'd missed all these years.

But in reality, they treated me like I was nothing.

They thought I was a terrible person who always picked on Smantha, saying a cruel sister like me was bound for hell.

Mom looked at me with disappointment many times, thinking I'd been corrupted by my adoptive parents. Even though I had their blood, she thought I still carried the dirty, inferior traits of those lower-class folks.

"Can't you be more sensible and stop bullying your little sister? She's so sweet and so pitiful."

"You've already gotten so much, you even married Matthew. Isn't that enough?"

Dad wanted to kick me out with a cold face, but finally stopped trying that after Samantha talked him down.

"Samantha is much kinder than you.," remarked him.

I listened to their mockery and didn't bother defending myself—there was no point.

Even when I told them about my sister putting thumbtacks on my bed, they'd just glare at me with disgust, convinced I was acting.

So yeah.

I might be alive, but I‘m drowning in my own hell.

——

2

The hospital room door opened. The director came out with a stack of reports, looking serious.

"The situation isn't great." The doctor pushed up his glasses. "The blood screening shows that one of you has leukemia and needs immediate treatment. But there's good news—one person's blood screening shows a successful match."

The air instantly froze.

The next second, three pairs of eyes shot toward me in unison.

My mom, Marissa, frowned, her tone showing no concern, only a kind of expected disgust. "Kelly, is it you? I told you to stop being jealous and framing others all the time. Otherwise, how would you get leukemia?"

My dad, Richard Bell, had this serious look on his face. "Fine, the family will pay for your treatment. You don't need to go home tonight, just stay at the hospital. Sure, you might not be the best kid, but we'll still help with your illness. As for the bone marrow, we'll find someone else. You wouldn't want to see us donate and end up weak, right?"

And my husband, Matthew, just gave me a cold glance, his tone as indifferent as if discussing a piece of broken furniture. "Samantha is weak, don't let it get to her. I'll have the butler come check on you at the hospital more often."

My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand, the pain making it hard to breathe.

They didn't even ask if it was me—they were already discussing how to handle me, this "trouble."

"Sorry, you may have misunderstood." The doctor coughed awkwardly, interrupting their judgment. "The suspected patient is... Miss Samantha."

Then came a chaotic burst of screaming.

"What? Samantha? Impossible!" Marissa rushed over like a madwoman and grabbed the doctor's collar. "You've got to be kidding! Samantha is so healthy, so sweet!"

Matthew's face instantly turned pale.

He pushed me out of the way, with such force that I hit the wall, my elbow throbbing with pain.

"Use the best medicine, get the best specialists. No matter how much it costs, she must be cured!" Matthew's voice was trembling.

Watching this scene, I suddenly found it funny.

Mom suddenly turned to look at me, like a mother lion whose cub had been hurt on the savanna.

"Doctor, did you just say the match is Kelly?"

The doctor nodded.

At that moment, all the blood in my body ran cold.

In the chaos, Samantha leaned in Matthew's arms, tears streaming down her pale face, but her eyes locked onto mine.

A barely noticeable smile curved at the corner of her mouth as she silently mouthed to me:

"See? Blood doesn't matter. Being loved is what matters."

Half an hour later, in the special care ward.

The expert consultation ended. The conclusion was that a bone marrow transplant must be performed as soon as possible.

The tension in the room was suffocating.

Marissa had cried her eyes red. Richard was chain-smoking.

Suddenly, Matthew looked up, his deep eyes locked onto me.

"Kelly." He called my name more affectionately than ever before, but it made my skin crawl. "Do the bone marrow transplant for Samantha as soon as possible."

Marissa grabbed onto me like a drowning person clutching a lifeline, her nails almost digging into my flesh. "Yes! Yes! You're healthy, losing a bit of bone marrow won't hurt you! You have to save your little sister!"

"I..." I was about to refuse.

"It's decided then." Richard stubbed out his cigarette and made the final decision without room for argument, as casually as deciding what to have for dinner.

"Kelly, this is your duty as a daughter of the Bells."

No one asked if I was willing.

In their eyes, my only value seemed to be for this moment—to become Samantha's spare part.

I looked at Matthew, trying to find a trace of compassion in the eyes of this man I'd shared a bed with for three years.

But there was none.

He just looked at me coldly and said matter-of-factly， "You're healthy, Samantha can't wait. Don't make me think you're a cold-blooded person."

Cold-blooded?

I looked down at my arm, bruised from where my mother had grabbed me, and the last flicker of light in my heart was completely extinguished.

Right.

It's just me who's cold-blooded.