At the time, she hadn’t felt this crushing disappointment—only worry for his health. That’s why she had rushed to get tested for a donor match.
Brad let out a cold laugh. "If I hadn’t pretended to be sick, would someone as selfish and petty as you have willingly donated your kidney to Lora? If her surgery had been delayed, could you have lived with that guilt?"
He had gripped her wrist so tightly along the way that angry red and purple marks marred her fair skin. But Nikki didn’t even seem to register the pain. She simply stared at Brad’s hardened face.
He was only a few months older than her, yet compared to his composed older brother, Howard, Brad had always been the reckless, impulsive one—like a younger brother trailing after her with unwavering enthusiasm.
He had done everything for her. He had never wanted to see her get hurt, not even a little.
When a boy with a crush on her once tugged at her pigtails, Brad had spun around and beaten him so badly that he ended up disfigured—yet he had still come to Nikki afterward, grinning proudly as if expecting praise.