When I woke up again, two nurses were speaking in hushed voices by the bedside.
“What do we do? She’s lost too much blood! I remember she used to donate here regularly shouldn’t she get priority access?” one nurse frantically flipped through the records. “That’s strange… the system says she donated 1200cc over the past six months, but it’s all recorded under Gina Higgins’ name…”
“Stop checking,” the older nurse quickly grabbed her hand, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mr. Olson gave direct orders that her blood donations were to be registered under Ms. Higgins.”
My fingers trembled beneath the blanket.
So that’s it. Every drop of blood I gave, every sacrifice I made, had been turned into one of Gina’s “good deeds.” Jimmy… do you really love her that much?
I suddenly remembered that rainy night half a year ago Jimmy curled up on my old couch, burning with fever, his face as pale as paper.
“I’m going to donate some blood,” I said without hesitation, rolling up my sleeve. “I heard blood donors get priority access and it can reduce the medical fees too.”
Jimmy, pale and weak, grabbed my hand, his eyes flickering with an emotion I couldn’t quite understand. “Nessie…”