hen my body was placed on the simple operating table, it was still warm.
Not that anyone cared, of course.
With a surgical knife in hand, Zach Clark slowly but meticulously cut open my chest, and then, he was puzzled.
“Huh? Why is there only one kidney?”
But he soon resumed what he was doing. His movements were sure and smooth. As expected of the top nephrologist in the city.
Some moments later, he removed a bloody kidney from my body and placed it on a uniquely–shaped instrument.
“Send it to the hospital and have the staff perform the kidney transplant for Catherine immediately.”
