My daughter, Mia Powell, lay with her small body covered in tubes and machines. Her pale face was tinged with a sickly red.

I rubbed my eyes. Somehow, I had returned to this familiar scene, witnessing the heart-wrenching moment from my past life once again.

With trembling hands, I reached for my daughter’s warm hand. My heart ached, and tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Mommy misses you so much, I miss you… I’m so sorry…”

My husband, Liam Powell, gently patted my shoulder.

“Don’t disturb her anymore, let’s go. It’s time.”

At the nurse’s urging, I forced my shaky legs to move, and we left the ICU together.

We sat down in a cramped office, and Liam placed a pen in my hand.

“You’ve seen it for yourself. Every second Mia stays alive after brain death is just suffering for her.”

He gestured to the organ donation consent form. “Sign it, let her be at peace.”

Hearing the cold, matter-of-fact tone in his voice, a surge of hatred shot through me, drying up my tears instantly.

I slammed the pen onto the desk and shrugged off his hand from my shoulder.

“I’m not signing it! Mia is not brain-dead!”

Liam looked stunned.

“But… we agreed earlier, didn’t we? You saw the doctor’s diagnosis. This is the best hospital in the city. What else is there not to trust?”

Trust?

Looking into his eyes that feigned innocence and surprise, I felt like I could see the cruelty hidden behind them.

In my past life, I had trusted him far too much.

Mia had been admitted to this top hospital for pneumonia. I had no idea that the attending doctor, Blair Lincoln, was Liam’s old flame.

Pneumonia was not supposed to be life-threatening. Yet after just one night away from Mia, her condition suddenly worsened, and she was rushed to emergency care.

By the time I returned to the hospital, I was told by Blair that Mia was already brain-dead.

Before I could process the devastating news, Liam was pulling me into signing the organ donation form.

“Mia was always kind. Her life can save others now. I believe she would want this.”