Chapter 4
After leaving the classroom, I headed straight for the infirmary. In my previous life, it was there that the doctor, Julien Perez, had given me a preliminary check–up and assured me, “Donating bone marrow is virtually risk–free,” setting me on a path of no return.
“Dr. Perez, I want to know every single potential risk involved in bone marrow donation. No sugarcoating. Just tell me everything,” I said bluntly.
The middle–aged school doctor looked up at me, sighed, and asked, “You’re Quinn Browning, right?”
I nodded.
He continued, “I know you’re concerned, but honestly, bone marrow donation is relatively safe.”
“Relatively safe? And what about that one percent risk? What if I’m the unlucky one?” I asked.
Julien was momentarily stunned. “You-”
“I need a complete breakdown of every possible complication,” I insisted, my tone firm. “And why hasn’t the hospital checked the bone marrow registry for other potential donors?”
Julien hesitated. “Well… searching the bone marrow registry takes time, and Ms. Cooley’s condition—”
I scoffed bitterly. “So I’m the sacrificial lamb? How convenient for everyone.”
“That’s not the case,” Julien said, looking troubled. “The hospital is reaching out to the bone marrow registry, but a match from a relative or close friend is considered the optimal solution.”
“Then what about Mason? Why hasn’t he gotten tested for a match?”
Julien was taken aback. “Mason? A–Aren’t he and Ms. Cooley-
“They share the same blood type. Why hasn’t Mason been tested for compatibility?”
Julien was left speechless. With a cold sneer, I got up and walked out.
On my way back to the dorm, I found Mason stationed at the entrance, his restless stance betraying he’d been waiting a long time.
He rushed toward me as soon as he saw me. “Quinn, can you at least calm down and go see Hannah? She’s in really bad shape right now.”
“See her for what? To watch her put on an act?” I mocked.
Mason’s face darkened. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing much,” I said dismissively, sidestepping to walk past Mason, but he caught me by the wrist.
“Quinn, what’s gotten into you?” Mason whispered. “This isn’t like you at all.”
“I was such a fool before.” I yanked my arm free. “All you want is my bone marrow, isn’t it? Over my dead body!”
A flash of ruthlessness flickered in Mason’s eyes, quickly shifting to desperation. “Quinn, listen to me. At any moment now, Hannah
could-”
“Then why don’t you go donate?” I stared straight into Mason’s eyes. “I checked. You and Hannah share the same blood type. So why haven’t you gotten tested for a match?”
Mason wore an embarrassed look. “I… Of course I’ll get tested, but the doctors said a related donor match is more ideal.”
“Oh? And what exactly is our relationship? How does that suddenly make me the ‘ideal‘ choice?”
“You’re her closest friend!” Mason grew anxious. “You two have been together since you were kids.”
“What about you? You’re her boyfriend, aren’t you?” I blurted out.
Mason looked as if he’d been struck by lightning. “W–What do you mean?”
“Just what it sounds like.” I locked eyes with Mason, my gaze unflinching. “Can’t admit it? Afraid people will call you a cheater for
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Chapter 4
cheating on me?”
Mason’s face turned deathly pale. “Quinn, who’s been feeding you these lies?”
“I saw everything,” I lied calmly, my voice steady. “I saw how you two were together in the hospital room.”
Mason panicked. “No… it’s not what you think… We were just-
“Just what, exactly? Just comforting each other? Just sharing a little mutual sympathy?”
“Enough!” Mason suddenly roared. “Quinn, have you lost it? Do you
reall
have to drive Hannah to her death?”
I laughed coldly. “Me? Driving her to her death? All I did was refuse to donate my bone marrow. How does that make me her killer?”
“You-” Mason trembled with rage. Suddenly, he spun around and stormed off, shouting back over his shoulder, “You’ll regret this!”
15
Watching Mason walk away, I let out a cold, derisive laugh. In my previous life, it was threats and intimidation like his that had worn me down and made me agree to the donation, only for it to end in my own tragic death.
In this life, I would never let them manipulate me again.
Word had it that Hannah’s condition was getting worse by the day. I still showed up to class on time, acting completely unbothered as if none of it had anything to do with me.
Meanwhile, the campus backlash was reaching a fever pitch. At this point, everyone seemed to be out to get me.
As soon as class ended, a group of unfamiliar girls blocked the doorway.
The one in front jabbed a finger in my face and shrieked, “Quinn, how dare you show up for class? Hannah’s fighting for her life, and you’re just pretending everything’s fine!”
I looked at them coldly and said, “What’s it to you?”
“At least we’re human. We have a conscience!” another girl lashed out. “Unlike you, you’re heartless.”
“Then why don’t you go donate your bone marrow? With the entire student population, someone must be compatible, right?” I retorted.
“We barely know Hannah. But you’re her closest friend!” the girl declared self–righteously.
I clapped sarcastically. “Brilliant! So if you barely know someone, you don’t have to help, but if you’re close, you must? That’s some truly remarkable moral logic.”
The girls were left speechless with rage. Finally, one of them snarled, “Just wait! You’ll get what you deserve!”
Back in the dorm, I found it completely deserted. My roommates had already moved out, leaving me all alone.
On my bed lay a letter. I opened it and discovered it was a disciplinary action notice from the university, ordering me to report to the Dean’s Office for a mandatory moral education session.
I tore the letter to shreds. This was way worse than my previous life, but I’d never bow to their unreasonable emotional blackmail.
Then, my phone rang. The hospital’s number flashed on the screen.
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