Killing Me For The Payout

Summary

There was a dry-erase board in our immaculate, marble-countered kitchen.

On it was my countdown.

Estimated Time Until Total Heart Failure: 47 Days.

Every morning, my mother would take a felt eraser, methodically wipe away yesterday’s number, and uncap a fresh black marker to write the new one.

It looked exactly like the countdowns you see for a Black Friday sale.

Precise. Clinical. Brimming with quiet anticipation.

My name is Harper. I am twelve years old.

I have a congenital heart defect. The specialists said without a transplant and complex reconstructive surgery, I wouldn’t live to…