Chapter 302: Absolutely Not
"Stop crying," Frank said gently, trying to console the kids. "If you keep it up, your eyes are going to swell. Look at me—I'm still standing here, not dead yet."
"See?" he added, flexing his bicep in an exaggerated show of strength. "Your old man's still tough. As long as I stop drinking from now on—quit for good—I'll be fine."
But his reassurance did little to lift their spirits.
"What did the doctor say?" Sammi asked when Fiona returned to the room.
"There is one treatment option," Fiona replied, looking at Frank with a complicated expression. "A liver transplant."
"Then do the transplant," Sammi said immediately, her reaction mirroring Fiona's.
"It's not that simple," Fiona said, then explained everything the doctor had told her.
"The surgery cost isn't the problem," the kids discussed among themselves. "The real issue is finding a donor—and a compatible liver."
In the past, a surgery costing over a hundred thousand dollars would've been completely out of reach. All they could've done was put Frank's name on a waiting list for a free organ transplant—one that stretched for years, with thousands of people ahead of him.
After all, the world never runs short of people who can't afford treatment.
But this time was different.
Now, at least, money wasn't the problem anymore.
All that remained to consider now was the donor—finding a fresh, compatible liver.
But this was a transplant. It meant taking someone else's organ and putting it into Frank's body. Not just any liver would do. If the rejection reaction was too severe, it could be fatal. Both donor and recipient would have to undergo multiple rounds of testing.
Finding a suitable match was no simple task.
"We should all be viable candidates," Sammi said. "We're Dad's kids—matching shouldn't be a problem."
In transplant surgery, especially for organs like bone marrow, kidneys, or livers, close blood relatives are always the first choice. They're far more compatible than strangers. That's why so many transplants happen between parents and children.
And that, in turn, had given rise to countless so-called "heartwarming" stories—parents who abandoned their children at birth, only to reappear ten or twenty years later when illness struck. Sometimes it was for themselves, sometimes for a child from a second marriage. They would suddenly start searching for the child they'd thrown away, playing the family card, even dragging in TV stations and reporters, all to morally blackmail a stranger into donating an organ.
"No. Absolutely not."
Frank, who had been comforting Debbie and the others, suddenly turned deadly serious and cut Sammi off.
There was no way—no way in hell—he would let his children donate their livers to him.
It was always supposed to be the other way around. Fathers gave organs to their children, not children to their fathers.
If this had been the old Frank, he might've welcomed it—might've gladly taken their organs to save his own skin. But this Frank would never do that.
People loved to say things like, You've got two—cut one out and you'll be fine, life goes on as usual. That was nonsense.
There had been a kid once—young, ignorant—who believed that lie. He sold a kidney through a black-market broker for a few thousand dollars, just to buy the latest phone. Not even half a year later, the phone was outdated. His body, meanwhile, collapsed. He ended up bedridden, his family bankrupted just to keep him alive.
Anything inside the body—if it can be treated—should never be removed lightly. Every organ has its purpose. Even the appendix.
So Frank would never allow his children to become donors for him.
If the choice was between his kids living with damaged bodies for the rest of their lives—or him dying—he'd choose death without hesitation. He was already in his fifties. He'd lived enough.
That was the instinct of most parents in moments like this: sacrifice yourself, never your children.
Seeing how emotional Frank had become, the kids quickly reassured him, promising they wouldn't donate anything. Only then did he finally calm down.
But privately, Sammi and Fiona exchanged a look.
Once the crying subsided, Frank had Sammi take the kids home. They still had school—there was no need for all of them to stay at the hospital.
"Alright," Sammi said gently. "Dad's sick. Let him rest. Don't crowd him."
She led the kids away, leaving Fiona behind to stay with Frank.
As Sammi stepped out of the room, she saw Jimmy standing in the hallway.
"You came," she said, giving him a brief nod.
"Frank…" Jimmy entered the room awkwardly, greeting him.
"Hmph." Frank snorted at the sight of the pretty boy.
"When did you get here?" Fiona asked, taking the fruit from Jimmy's hands.
"As soon as I heard. I've been outside the whole time," Jimmy replied.
The room had been packed and heavy with grief earlier, so he hadn't gone in.
Not long after, Sheila and Karen rushed in as well, bursting straight into the ward.
"Frank—Dad!!" Karen threw herself at him, crying so hard her makeup smeared all over her face.
They'd gotten the news late. Hearing that Frank had vomited blood and been hospitalized, the two of them rushed over immediately. Karen was in such a panic that she'd snapped the heel off one of her high heels without even noticing.
Karen's feelings for Frank were no less than the kids'—perhaps even stronger. After all, Frank had saved her life. When she heard he was in the hospital, she'd truly felt like the sky was falling.
"I'm fine," Frank said softly, hugging her. "See? Still here."
"What caused it?" Sheila asked, holding herself together better than most. "What did the doctor say? Was it the cancer?"
"No," Fiona explained. "The cancer is benign. It's liver cirrhosis."
"How could this happen…" Sheila and Karen stared in disbelief.
He'd seemed fine not long ago. How could things suddenly turn into this—how could he be facing the end so abruptly?
The truth was too cruel, and for a moment, neither of them could accept it.