In the fifth year of her father’s battle with a rare blood disease, Cara finally received good news: a matching bone marrow donor had been found. The night before the transplant, her husband of five years, Lincoln, asked her to give up the bone marrow for his mentor’s daughter instead. He stood tall and poised, dressed in his white coat, his expression as detached and calm as ever, as though discussing a routine medical case. “Cara.” He started, his voice steady and devoid of emotion. “Selina’s condition has changed.” Cara’s heart sank at the sound of her name spoken so indifferently. Instinctively, she stepped back, an ominous feeling gripping her. “She needs a bone marrow transplant.” Lincoln’s gaze locked on hers, with the clinical rationality of a doctor. “From a medical perspective, this is the optimal solution.” Each word cut through her fragile hope like a scalpel against her heart. Cara’s voice trembled uncontrollably. “Lincoln… what are you saying? My dad… he’s been waiting for five years! Five years for this!” “He finally got it! He finally has a chance!” Lincoln’s expression didn’t waver, his tone factual. “I know. But Professor Steele entrusted me with Selina before his passing. It’s my responsibility as a doctor.” “Considering age, physical condition, and recovery prospects, Selina’s chances of a successful transplant are higher. Rationally, giving her the bone marrow maximizes its medical value.” Cara’s voice shot up in disbelief. “Rationally? Medical value?” “Lincoln! That’s my father’s life! He’s lying there, relying on machines, waiting for this bone marrow! And… Selina just had a full check-up two days ago! Mild anemia! She doesn’t even need a transplant!” Cara pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and threw it at Lincoln with all her strength. “Look for yourself!” “She’s your first love, isn’t she? Mild anemia and you make the whole thing like it’s a terminal illness! ‘Critical condition’? Lincoln, where’s your compassion as a doctor?” Lincoln glanced at the thin medical report without a hint of surprise. He simply replied, “Cara, you don’t understand medicine. Mild anemia can be a precursor to blood disorders. As a doctor, I can’t take that risk.” Her heart plummeted. He… he had known all along! And he had already made his decision! From his coat pocket, Lincoln retrieved a neatly folded stack of A4 papers. His movements were as precise as when he performed rounds. “Sign this.” “It’s a voluntary organ transfer agreement. And you will agree to transfer the priority use of the bone marrow to Selina.” The world spun around her as Cara clung to the cold wall, barely keeping herself from collapsing. “No… don’t you dare!” She forced the words out through clenched teeth, her voice shaking. Lincoln’s gaze remained composed, as if explaining a surgical procedure to a patient. “Cara, think about it. How is your father alive right now? Those intricate machines in the ICU.” “Sign it, give the bone marrow to Selina, and I will ensure the machines keep running until… another suitable match is found for him. It’s the best solution.” He paused, his voice chillingly steady. “Or, you can refuse. In ten minutes, I’ll instruct the termination of all life support for your father as his attending physician. Medically speaking, further treatment is futile.” Boom— The last of her strength drained away, and Cara slid down the icy wall. As her knees were about to hit the ground, Lincoln extended a pen toward her, as precisely as if he were handing over a surgical instrument. He didn’t help her up. Instead, he placed the pen firmly in her cold, stiff hand. Five years ago, on the day her father was diagnosed with his blood disease, he had solemnly placed his cherished fountain pen, one he had used for over two decades, into her hand. Later, on the day she and Lincoln confirmed their relationship, she had given him that same pen as a token of their love. “This is my dad’s most precious possession… and now, I’m giving it to you.” Lincoln had gently touched her cheek, kissed her forehead, and promised, “Cara, I will never betray you and Mr. Ramsey’s trust.” Now, this pen—once a symbol of her purest love—was being used by the man she loved to force her into signing away her father’s chance at life. Her lips trembled as she spoke, her voice cracking with each word. “What if I refuse? Would you really…” Lincoln’s expression was as calm as when pronouncing a patient’s death. “Cara, I’m not negotiating. I’m fulfilling my duty as a doctor and honoring a promise to Professor Steele.” “You should understand; sometimes, doctors have to make difficult decisions.” Her hand spasmed violently as she clutched the pen. “Lincoln, for the sake of our five years of marriage…” But Lincoln’s gaze grew colder with every passing second. His voice was as detached as delivering a terminal diagnosis. “Cara, remember, it’s your irrationality that will cost your father his life. As a family member, it’s your duty to cooperate with the best treatment plan.” As he finished speaking, he picked up the phone and calmly issued an order. “Discontinue life support for No. 17. The patient’s family has refused to cooperate with treatment.” “Who are you! No! You can’t do this!” The nurses’ frantic protests shattered Cara’s last shred of hope. Lincoln had actually done it. “No! I’ll sign!” Cara grabbed the organ transfer agreement, but her hands trembled so violently that the pen kept slipping from her grasp. Desperate, tears and mucus streaming down her face, she forced herself to take deep breaths to calm down. Clamping her left hand over her right wrist, she scrawled her name in jagged letters on the agreement. “Lincoln! I’ve signed it! Stop them now!” Lincoln glanced at his watch, his voice as steady as ever. “Three more minutes.” “What?” “Medical observation period. We need to confirm the family’s decision is firm.” Her father’s faint, labored breaths seemed to pierce through the thick walls, echoing clearly in Cara’s ears. Overwhelmed by sheer terror, she retched uncontrollably. “Lincoln, you’re insane!” She struggled to her feet and rushed toward the ICU, only to be stopped by Lincoln’s gentle grip. His hold was light but unyielding, like a doctor calming an agitated patient. “Cara, stay calm. Everything will return to normal in three minutes.” No matter how much Cara pleaded or cursed, Lincoln remained unflinching, his eyes fixed on his watch. Ding. Lincoln finally looked up from his medical-grade wristwatch. “Observation period over.” The beeping of machines resumed in the ICU—a sound that, to Cara, was the most beautiful music in the world. She collapsed to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut, her knees slamming into the cold tiles. Yet she seemed numb to the pain, dragging herself up slowly, step by step, clutching the wall as she stumbled out. A group of doctors and nurses rushed past her in the opposite direction. “Emergency resuscitation, now!” Cara turned sharply, just as the ICU doors swung open. Her father’s eyes met hers, his lips faintly blue as he forced a weak smile. Her tears fell in heavy drops. Meanwhile, Lincoln, speaking softly into his phone with a tone of practiced reassurance, said, “Don’t worry. The surgery is scheduled.” “What do you mean, ‘taking priority’? This is a rational allocation of medical resources. Your condition requires immediate attention.” His voice remained calm as he strode toward the elevator. “Hold on; I’m on my way.” Cara cried and then laughed. This was the man who had once confessed, “It has to be you,” and vowed on their wedding day, “I will never let you down.” The resuscitation lasted over an hour. Standing hollow-eyed outside the recovery room, Cara dialed a number that had remained untouched in her contacts. “Hello. I’d like to apply for artificial blood stem cells for my father.” “Immigration procedures will take a week. We’ll leave then.”