Her Daughter's Last Gift

The day I found out I was a match for my dad—stage four leukemia—I bailed.

Mom tore the world apart looking for me, but yeah, she had to watch him go.

After that, she drowned herself in research, built a name, even adopted this perfect little angel.

We crossed paths again at some fancy leukemia conference she was hosting. I was on the demo table. She took one look and scoffed.

"Charlotte Stein, not the time for your crap. Get up and go."

The host blinked, stunned. "Dr. Cooper... you know this cadaver?"

She actually laughed. "What, she paid you for this stunt?"

The host turned ghost-white. "M-Miss Stein passed three days ago..."

Mom frowned.

"I didn't get the memo—when did today become April Fool's? Gotta admit, that makeup job on Charlotte almost had me."

Her eyes scanned my face. Just for a second, she looked scared.

Then came the forced smile. "So what is this—meant to shock me, or... surprise me?"

The host shot a desperate look at a nearby journalist.

The journalist stepped up, grabbed the mic.

"Dr. Cooper, I'll answer that in just a moment."

Then she turned to the crowd.

"Hey, everyone. I'm Elayne Tyler—journalist and co-organizer of today's event. We're about to play a message... from our cadaver."

***

The screen behind the stage lit up.

There I was—sitting on a beach, looking straight into the camera.

"Hey, I'm Charlotte Stein. I love the sun, the sky, the ocean—look how pretty it is behind me. Always wanted to come here with Mom and Dad.

"But that's not gonna happen. It's cool, though. I brought their picture, so it's like they're here."

I pulled a photo from my bag, held it up.

"Anyway, my mom's amazing, and—"

I suddenly leaned back and collapsed.

The camera jostled, voices panicking off-screen.

"She passed out! Get her to a hospital!"

"I told you this was a bad idea!"

Then I popped back in, grinning like a dork. "Haha, gotcha!"

Laughed so hard I started crying.

"Mom, I love you. So, so much."

The video froze—me, tear-streaked and smiling.

***

Mom didn't flinch.

"This is a medical conference, Ms. Tyler. Not a soap opera."

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"Wait, isn't that Dr. Cooper's daughter? I heard she was a match for her dad. If she'd just done the transplant, he'd still be alive."

"Selfish. Couldn't even save her own father."

"What's she doing here—turning a medical conference into a drama?"

"Dr. Cooper's a big deal now. Bet this is all for attention or cash."

"That really Charlotte Stein?"

"She got what was coming. Let her dad die—karma, plain and simple."

But it wasn't that I didn't want to save him—I couldn't.

If I could've, I'd have traded places in a heartbeat.

I couldn't even save myself...

As the murmurs grew, Mom's face shifted. She reached for me.

Elayne cut in before she could touch me.

"Dr. Cooper, please—watch the rest of the documentary. I hope Charlotte's cancer journey shows what leukemia patients really go through."

***

The screen switched—music blaring.

A packed bar. Lights flashing. Chaos everywhere.

I weaved through the crowd, balancing a tray of drinks. My makeup was thick, but it couldn't hide how pale I looked.

Suddenly, I chucked a drink at the camera, clearly over it.

"Can you not bug me while I'm working?"

"You're Charlotte Stein, right? I'm Elayne Tyler. Journalist with a cancer support org. We're filming a documentary on leukemia patients. If you join, we'll cover all your treatment costs."

Elayne's voice was calm. Kind.

I stared dead at the lens.

"If I say yes, can you just hand me the cash?"

Silence.

I gave a bitter half-smile and went back to the grind.

Around 2 a.m., I stumbled out of the bar, drained.

Elayne caught up.

"Do you need the money for something else? Maybe I can help."

I looked up—and my nose exploded with blood.

Off-screen, someone yelled, "Miss Stein!"