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A smile spreads over his face, making him look devilishly attractive. “Actually, I do.” A frown forms on my forehead, and it has him saying, “My little brother’s kidney is keeping you alive. How do you suggest you repay me?”
The guilt and heartbreak knock the air from my lungs, and tears jump to my eyes. My voice is hoarse as I say, “I’m so sorry they killed your brother. I never wanted someone to die so I could live. I would never have agreed to the surgery if I had known.”
He lets out a scoffing sound. “Do you expect me to believe you’d just go gracefully into the afterlife and give up the chance of getting a kidney?”
Without zero hesitation, I answer, “Yes.”
Renzo stares into my eyes until I fist my hands at my sides to keep from squirming.
“If you could turn back time, would you die so my brother could live?”
Again, I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
He takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly, then turning around, he walks to the door. “Follow me,topolina.”
What the hell is he calling me in Italian?
I walk behind Renzo as we head back to the room where Dad and Dr. Bentall are. My stomach coils with dread, and when I follow him into the room, I see there’s a bandage around Dad’s arm.
Surely Renzo wouldn’t give Dad medical care if he was going to kill him?
The thought has hope exploding in my heart, and I rush over to Dad, who’s struggling to his feet.
I wrap my arms around him and give him a hug, whispering, “Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me. What happened? Did he do something to you?”
“No. I just slept,” I answer.
“Enough with the little reunion,” Renzo says, his tone low and dark. “Get Dr. Bentall.”
The same guard from yesterday walks to Dr. Bentall and forces him onto his knees. The doctor who’s treated me for the past three years looks nothing like the educated and confident man I’ve gotten to know and trust.
His face is swollen badly from yesterday’s beating, and I feel sorry for him even though he committed an unforgivable crime.
“Any last words?” Renzo asks.
My eyes grow wide as saucers when the question registers.
No.
Dr. Bentall looks at Renzo and says, “I’ve devoted my life to saving people.”
“Yet my brother is dead,” Renzo snaps. “How many times did you buy an organ off the black market?”
“Not many,” Dr. Bentall answers. “Maybe seven or eight times.”
Renzo shakes his head. “Do you know they kill healthy children in Mexico for organ trafficking?”
Dr. Bentall remains quiet.
I didn’t know that.
Renzo reaches behind his back and pulls a gun from where it was tucked into the waistband of his pants. His fingers flex around the handle before he walks closer to Dr. Bentall.
I shake my head wildly as I shriek, “Don’t! Please, don’t kill him.”
Renzo’s eyes snap to me, and the next moment, the gun is trained on Dad. I dart in front of my father, keeping my arms wide open as if it would make me bigger.
