In Washington, the night came with its usual uneasiness, and like every night, David sat in the hospital waiting area, not wanting to be next to his wife's bedside. Guilt always suffocated him. He was too ashamed to look into her eyes. Somewhere in the back of his head, he felt if she looked deep into his eyes, she would see what he did. So he avoided being in the room when she was awake.

The hospital waiting area became his home. He would sit there watching the emergencies, the outpatient cases, or just watching the ins and outs of people that required medical services. Usually, it was the crying people that got his attention. It always meant one thing: a loved one had died. He wondered how he was going to receive his news. Was he going to be at work or was he going to be next to her or hiding in the waiting area? He always wondered how he would cry or whether he would cry at all.

His thoughts were insensitive, but that was the reality waiting for him. He placed his hands on his face, rolling his temples.

A click of heels grabbed his attention, but he ignored it. It was followed by a strong perfume that hit him hard. It was different from the usual variety of women's perfumes that his nose was accustomed to.

 When he looked up, his gaze was drawn to a stunningly gorgeous, well-dressed woman. She inquired if the seat next to him was available, but he continued to stare at her, taking in her delicate features. She had long, dark hair that was curled all the way to the ends. She was dressed in a pink suit that appeared to be quite costly, but she was wearing shades, making it difficult for him to discern how old she was. He could see that she was stunning.

"Is the seat taken?" She asked again.

But David kept staring at her without saying a word. 

"Sorry, is this seat taken?" She asked for the third time.

David quickly snapped out of it and left space for her to sit. She took a seat and went about her business, scrolling through her phone. He looked away and wondered what brought her to the hospital. She looked healthy. All he could think of was that she was there for a routine check-up or something. 

"Are you waiting for a doctor?" She started a conversation.

"I beg your pardon?"

I'm waiting for Dr. Sams; are you also waiting for him? She clarified.

"No, my wife is admitted here," he replied. Her question took him back to reality, reminding him of the shabby reality he was in.

"I'm sorry, what's wrong with her?"  She asked.

Awkwardly, David shifted his gaze to her. He had no idea what her name was, and she had only been sitting next to him for ten seconds before asking about his wife. He averted his gaze and pretended to be typing on his phone.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to pry. It's definitely none of my business," she clarified, "I just wanted to start up a conversation," she clarified, but received no reply. 

There was a stretch of awkward silence with David fixed on his phone. The woman adjusted her suit and cleared her throat.

"These appointments are very scary sometimes," she added, trying to get him talking again.

The quietness stretched again until David chose to speak up. Maybe speaking about it to a stranger was going to ease his guilt, he thought to himself. He had no one to talk to; he had fallen short of most of his friends because of his debt.

 He owed at least someone money, and his failure to pay back caused a rift in their relationship. He wasn't owing them on purpose; he simply didn't have the funds to repay them, so he isolated himself in shame.

"She needs a heart transplant," he replied. 

The lady covered her mouth with her palm, and it was difficult to determine what she was thinking due to the large dark sunglasses she wore on her face. Most people would have removed their spectacles to show sympathy or out of respect, but she still had them on. David began to believe she had bruises all over her eyes and didn't want people staring at her.

I'm so sorry, what are the doctors saying? "

He stammered, almost breaking down. "She needs that heart, but..." he stammered, almost breaking down.He tried holding on. He did not want to cry in front of the beautiful stranger, however, he had been holding a lot inside for too long. Tears began to drop one by one. 

"I'm so sorry, it's just.." he apologized.

"It's  okay, it's tough to watch a loved one die when you know the doctors can do something but they choose not to because one does not have money," she replied in a direct tone.

 David paused for a minute and stared at her, shocked. Her reply was not what he expected; he was expecting comforting words.

"You know what? My cousin from Pipevine died in a hospital, and I had to watch a girl who was brought in get a new heart while my cousin had been on the list for months," she added.

David stared at her, not sure what to say. Her topic was insensitive, especially when his wife was going through the same situation.

"This entire system is fucked up and so unfair. I know what you are going through, "she added. 

David could only nod his head. He was beginning to get irritated by how she was taking the situation to fit her experience. She was making his wife's misfortune fit her personal experience, which was wrong. He began beating himself for opening up to her.

 "In this life, if you just sit and do nothing, the government will keep fucking you..." she spat out.

"I'm sorry, I think I have to go," David quickly stated.

She quickly got up, my apologies. Did I make you uncomfortable?" She asked in a direct, weird tone again. 

David froze and just glanced at her again. He wondered if she was okay upstairs. His first instinct was that he was dealing with a mental patient.

"No, I just have to check on my wife... I have been here far too long," he lied.

"You have only been here for twenty minutes," she replied.

David opened his mouth, but he couldn't say anything to her. He checked his watch; he was certain she was correct about the time. He began to feel anxious and uncomfortable; she had clearly been watching him before taking a seat next to him, which was really disturbing.

"Okay, where was I? When my cousin died, I promised myself not to let the government fuck me again, so when my brother needed an organ transplant, I fucked the government back and got him to the top of the list," she stated with a sleek smile. 

David, who was about to get up and leave, froze, interested in where her conversation was going. She noticed and smiled. She finally got his attention.

"What... do you mean... by fucking the government? How did you get your brother on top of the list?" he asked.

She moved closer in excitement and asked him to lean over. He looked at her, confused, as she kept urging him to lean over.

"Don't be a scared cat. I just want to whisper something.

David leaned over and she said, "I played a game and won."

David glanced at her, furious, and stood up; he couldn't believe he was about to fall for her idiocy. She was a lunatic who preyed on other people's sorrows. Noticing his annoyance, she hurriedly stood up and grabbed his arm.

"David, there were these wealthy and influential folks who organized a simple game, and the winners were instantly added to the donor list."

"How do you know my name? Who told you my name? Because I do not remember telling you my name," David yelled at her. He began panicking. Something was not okay about the girl.

The woman gripped her nose as if she were in pain, realizing she had just messed up by slipping his name out. She had to think quickly before she fully freaked him off.

"David from Washington, you are one of the lucky chosen who has been invited to participate in our annual organ games: a race to the top of the donor list," she declared, sounding like a news reporter.

David's expression was priceless as he stared at her from head to toe. His mind was scrambling to make sense of what she had just said. He was wondering if he was hallucinating her or if she was genuine. He looked around but noticed that everyone was going about their business.

"Organ what?" He asked for clarification.

"The Organ games and rich people's being on top of the list is not a secret," she explained.

"What if these sick psychos created a game to give poor people who can't afford it a chance to play a series of silly games in order to win a spot at the top of the list?" She asked.

David looked at her again, unsure whether she was sincere or attempting to make a fool of him. Perhaps someone, perhaps someone to whom he owed money, was playing a prank on him and hired the girl in front of him. He folded his arms and inquired as to who had sent her. He was curious to know who was willing to play such a wicked game on him and his sick wife.

"This is serious, David; I've played this game before. If you are not interested, that is fine; we can substitute another person in your place. The game is not a compulsion," In her customary straightforward tone, she spat out.

David began doubting his instincts. He could not tell how serious she was because of the glasses on her face. But her tempting offer was too good to be true. After assessing his situation and how desperate he was willing to give her an ear, he asked. 

"Wait a minute. First of all, I do not know your name and you have not clarified how you know me." 

"Well, like I said, I work for very rich people, and they have access to files, so your name and your wife's condition popped up. And my name is Acer by the way," she replied.

"And you played silly games to get your brother on top of a donor list?" He asked.

"Yes," she replied,

"What kind of games?" He asked, unfolding his arms.

She handed him her phone, David grabbed it with raised eyebrows. He clicked on the video and could see a girl that looked like the one standing in front of him walking through the streets naked. He could not tell if it was indeed her. She was completely naked and walking in the streets naked with people, especially males, cheering for her. He quickly handed her back the phone, sending her into a giggle. 

"The walk was definitely worth it. My little brother is now in fourth grade. I'm sure you wouldn't mind walking naked for your wife's life," she asked.

David looked at her as she handed him a photo of a little boy in a hospital with doctors holding a picture of his heart. It was hard to believe that the rich would organize such a game to save lives.

"Let's say this is true, what do your employers get from this? Why help complete strangers? "

"Make more money," she replied.

For a minute, David became more confused. 

"The games work like this: each rich man bets a million dollars on a player, and if that player wins, they get all of the money wagered by the others, while the player goes home with the organ."

However, he still had a lot of questions. 

"So now you are working for them?"

"Yes, they approached me and I agreed to work for them. They give me the names of people who require organs and I recruit them, then I get a big commission," she explained.

"Have  you seen these rich men before?" 

"No, they never show their faces. They can be your neighbor, a famous politician, or anyone." 

He rubbed his brow; half of him was convinced that everything was a hoax, while the other half was convinced that a miracle was right in front of him. He'd heard of wealthy people organizing silly games, but not for organs.

She snatched his hand and hurriedly scribbled down her phone number.

"If you're interested, phone me tomorrow before noon; remember, there are a few spots available," she smirked as she walked away, vanishing into the elevator.