

Sophie grew up in an orphanage and was adopted by the wealthy Johnson family when she was six. She spent twelve happy years being doted on by her three brothers and adoptive parents. But when her adoptive parents' biological daughter, Camille, returned, Sophie went from being the beloved child to someone misunderstood and hurt at the family's edges. Camille plotted against her at every turn, constantly framing Sophie, and the family chose to believe her, repeatedly hurting Sophie with their coldness, leaving her disheartened. Sophie decided to become the first volunteer for the "Sleep Project" her eldest brother had been planning for five years, repaying her adoptive parents for their care through a life experiment. On her eighteenth birthday, she completely broke ties with her family, walked alone into the sleep pod, and donated her corneas to her blind second brother. When she woke up thirty years later, her family was now gray-haired, but she could no longer remember them—leaving only that misplaced sense of family as an eternal regret in the river of time.

My daughter, Ruby Pratt, has leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant—and fast. Out of everyone in the family, my husband, Dan Pratt, was the only match. I begged him for an entire month before he finally agreed to go through with the donation. But on the morning of the surgery, he went completely off the grid. I stood outside the hospital all day, waiting. No calls. No texts. Not even a shadow. That night, his childhood friend, Valerie Kinder, posted on Instagram. In the photo, Dan was holding Valerie's hand with one arm and carrying her young son with the other—on a beach in Lulabo City. The caption read: [Soaking up the sun! Dan cleared his whole schedule to join us on a month-long trek and we finally made it to the coast! My little boy said Uncle Dan made his ocean dream come true. Pure joy!] My heart splintered. While I was drowning in worry over my daughter, he was off playing happy family with them. I wiped my tears and typed a comment beneath her post: [Not 'Uncle.' From now on, he's your son's father.] That night, I finally got a call from him. "Babe, don't be like this," Dan said. "You're not being fair. "Valerie's son has been bullied at school for not having a dad. I couldn't stand seeing him hurt, so I took them on this trip. It was supposed to help him heal. "I'll catch the first flight back tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to donate the marrow. I promise." I hung up with a bitter smile. The next morning, Dan rushed into the hospital room. But all he found on the bed was a death certificate.