The crowd murmured amongst themselves, realizing they might have misunderstood Emerald. To them, she now seemed like a desperate mother trying to save her son. What ill intentions could she possibly have?
Clinton tenderly helped Emerald to her feet, gently wiping away her tears and the dust from her knees. Then, turning his fury toward me, he growled, "Emerald's already done all this, and you still won't help Yale?"
He sneered, his eyes blazing. "Using the peripheral blood collection method means the blood is reintroduced into the body after collection. You have no more excuses now, do you?"
I narrowed my eyes. "So, you know about these different methods of bone marrow collection, don't you?" I mocked, tightening my hold on Tamara.
Clinton's face darkened for a moment, but he quickly recovered, his voice growing colder. "Of course, with Yale's condition, I had to research transplant methods. Tamara is incredibly lucky to be able to help him."
He took a step closer, his voice hardening. "Celestine, Yale is also just six years old. Can you really watch him die?"