Chapter 7 The Kidney Agreement

The Blackthorn estate welcomed Elizabeth with thorny arms. Six weeks of uneasy domesticity had settled like dust on antique furniture—Edward playing doting father by day, obsessive watcher by night. Thomas flourished under their fractured family façade, his laughter the only genuine sound echoing through marble halls.

Elizabeth arranged roses in the breakfast nook, their blood-red petals matching the scar above her heart. The French doors overlooking the garden remained permanently locked—Edward's subtle reminder that her freedom came with conditions.

"Mommy, look!" Thomas burst into the room clutching a toy stethoscope. "I'm a doctor like Uncle William!"

Elizabeth froze, porcelain vase slipping through her fingers. Edward caught it before it shattered, his hand lingering on her wrist.

"Thomas," he said with calculated calm, "where did you hear that name?"

The boy's smile dimmed. "The pretty lady with yellow hair told me. She's in the guest house."

Edward's grip tightened until Elizabeth's pulse hammered against his fingers. "What pretty lady?"

"The one who needs medicine." Thomas demonstrated with his plastic syringe. "She said she's my real mommy."

Elizabeth's world tilted on its axis. "Edward, what is he talking about?"

Before he could answer, the French doors swung open. Anne Worthington stood like a ghost in designer clothes, her once-voluptuous figure now skeletal. Dark circles beneath her eyes matched the bruises on her arms where dialysis needles had recently pierced skin.

"Surprise, family." Anne's voice rasped like sandpaper on silk. "Miss me?"

Edward pushed Thomas behind him. "You're supposed to be dead."

"Disappointed?" Anne's laugh dissolved into a wet cough. "Sorry to ruin your happily-ever-after, but I need something from your little brood mare."

Elizabeth stepped forward. "How did you survive?"

"William had contingencies." Anne sank into a chair, strength visibly ebbing. "Unfortunately, his experimental treatments destroyed my kidneys. Hence my visit."

Edward's face hardened to granite. "Get out before I finish what the ocean started."

"Not without what I came for." Anne pulled medical files from her Hermès bag. "Elizabeth's kidney. One of them, anyway."

"You're insane." Elizabeth gathered Thomas into her arms, the boy trembling against her chest.

Anne slid a document across the table. "Actually, I'm practical. Kidney Donation Agreement. Sign it, or I'll tell Edward who really fathered his precious heir."

The room temperature dropped ten degrees. Edward's voice emerged dangerously soft: "What are you implying?"

"Ask your nurse." Anne's skeletal finger pointed at Elizabeth. "Ask her about the nights William 'treated' her while you were hunting me across Europe."

Elizabeth's denial died in her throat as Edward's gaze turned to ice. "Edward, she's lying—"

"Am I?" Anne produced a paternity test. "Blood doesn't lie, darling. Thomas has William's rare blood type."

Edward snatched the paper, color draining from his face. "B-negative."

"Just like William." Anne's smile stretched like a wound. "Not like your O-positive, Edward."

The crystal decanter shattered in Edward's grip, bourbon seeping into imported carpets. "Get out."

"Edward, please—" Elizabeth reached for him, Thomas clutching her neck.

"NOT YOU!" His roar made the chandelier tremble. "You stay exactly where I can see you."

Anne's triumphant laugh dissolved into another coughing fit. "The agreement needs signing. My surgery is scheduled for tomorrow."

Edward stalked to his study, returning with a fountain pen dripping red ink. "Sign it, Elizabeth."

"You can't believe her—"

"SIGN IT!" He slammed the pen down. "Or I'll sign your commitment papers instead."

With trembling fingers, Elizabeth scrawled her name beside Anne's spidery signature. Thomas whimpered against her shoulder, his tiny heart beating in terrified rhythm with hers.

"Excellent." Anne struggled to her feet. "The car will collect you at dawn."

After she left, silence crystallized between them. Edward poured another bourbon, his back a wall of rejection.

"He's yours." Elizabeth's whisper barely disturbed the air. "Thomas is your son."

"Save your lies for someone who still believes them." Edward drained his glass. "I've scheduled a DNA test for tomorrow."

"After you let her take my kidney?" Elizabeth's voice rose. "What if I don't survive?"

His laugh held no warmth. "Then at least I'll know the truth before you're cold."

---

The hospital corridors gleamed with antiseptic promise. Elizabeth lay on the gurney, surgical markings mapping the path to her kidney. In the waiting room, Edward sat stone-faced while Thomas colored pictures of their fractured family.

Dr. Jameson reviewed her charts. "Mrs. Blackthorn, are you certain about this directed donation? The recipient's condition is quite advanced."

"Just do it." Elizabeth stared at the ceiling, counting fluorescent panels like rosary beads.

As orderlies wheeled her toward the operating theater, Edward appeared beside her, Thomas's hand clutched in his.

"Daddy's angry," Thomas whispered, pressing a crayon drawing against her arm. "But I drawed you new kidneys."

Elizabeth blinked back tears. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Edward remained silent, his jaw working beneath stubbled skin.

"If I don't wake up," she whispered, "remember he has your eyes."

The anesthesiologist approached with his mask. As consciousness began slipping away, Elizabeth heard raised voices in the corridor.

"Sir! You can't go in there—"

"The blood test results—"

Darkness claimed her before she could hear more.

---

Elizabeth floated through morphine dreams—roses blooming beneath surgical lights, Thomas swimming in an ocean of blood types, Edward's hands stained with ink from unsigned contracts.

"Wake up." His voice dragged her back to consciousness. "Elizabeth, please."

Her eyelids weighed a thousand pounds. Edward's face swam into focus, tears tracking through his stubble.

"You're crying," she mumbled.

"He's mine." Edward pressed his forehead against hers. "Thomas is mine. Anne switched the results."

Reality reassembled in painful fragments. "The surgery—"

"Canceled." Edward's laugh sounded broken. "I offered my kidney instead."

Elizabeth struggled to sit up. "What? Why would you—"

"Because I'd rather die than lose you again." His confession hung between them like a lifeline. "The DNA test came back while you were being prepped. B-negative is recessive. My grandfather had it."

The door burst open as Thomas barreled in, clutching a stuffed bear. "Mommy! Daddy saved you!"

Edward lifted their son onto the bed. "Easy, champion. Mommy needs rest."

"Where's Anne?" Elizabeth scanned the room for threats.

Edward's smile turned predatory. "Discovering that even private hospitals report organ trafficking attempts to authorities."

As Thomas nestled between them, Elizabeth's fingers found Edward's across the hospital blanket. "No more tests? No more doubts?"

"Just one promise." Edward's thumb traced her wedding ring—the one she hadn't noticed him slipping on while she slept. "No more running."

Outside the window, police lights flashed blue and red as Anne was escorted from the building in handcuffs. Inside, a family pieced itself together one fractured truth at a time.