Chapter 4

I remembered Ethan' s resentment, a festering wound from childhood.

He was the firstborn, the presumed heir to Mom' s tech company.

My birth, he' d once drunkenly confessed in my past life, shifted our mother' s universe.

Suddenly, he wasn't the sole focus.

Then Chloe arrived, adopted years ago, a pretty, damaged doll Ethan could champion.

He' d encouraged her subtle torment of me, making him feel powerful, punishing me for a crime I didn't commit – the crime of existing, of being loved by our mother.

Chloe, with her victim complex and narcissistic charm, played him like a fiddle, isolating me, making me the villain in our family's twisted narrative.

Their malice wasn't new, it was a slow poison administered over years.

And now, it was lethal.

"Miss?"

A soft voice pulled me from my dark thoughts.

A young nurse, her name tag read 'Nurse Davis' , stood before me, her expression kind, concerned.

She must have witnessed my desperate phone calls, seen the despair on my face.

"I overheard... about the O-negative blood," she said quietly, glancing around to ensure no one was listening. "The blood bank is truly struggling tonight. And Dr. Peterson... well, he seems to have a very specific narrative he' s pushing."

She hesitated, then seemed to make a decision.

"There was a patient here last month, Mr. Henderson. He' s O-negative. A bit of a character, but he lives locally. The hospital can' t officially solicit like this, but..."

She scribbled a number on a piece of paper and pressed it into my hand.

"He might help. But he can be... transactional."

My heart leaped. A lifeline.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Thank you so much."

She gave a small, sympathetic smile and hurried away.

I dialed the number immediately.

A gruff voice answered. "Henderson."

"Mr. Henderson, my name is Sarah. I got your number from a nurse at City General. My mother is critically ill, she needs O-negative blood urgently, and the hospital is out."

A pause. "O-negative, huh? Rare stuff. Valuable."

I braced myself. "Yes, sir. It is."

"Look, lady, I' m not a charity. I help, I get helped. You understand?"

"Yes," I said, my voice firm. "What do you want?"

"Ten thousand dollars. Cash. Upfront. You bring it, I give blood. Simple."

Ten thousand dollars. It was a fortune, but Mom' s life was priceless.

"I can get it," I said, my mind already working. I had access to my trust fund, though getting cash immediately would be a challenge. But I' d find a way. "Where do we meet?"

"I' ll come to the hospital' s blood center. You have one hour to get the cash. No cash, no blood."

He hung up.

One hour.

The clock was ticking, louder than ever.