He didn't look at me again. His footsteps hurried down the hallway and faded.
The needle pierced my skin once more. I didn't struggle this time. I just closed my eyes, too exhausted to fight.
A bitter smile ghosted across my lips.
Blake, you won't get the chance to make it up to me.
Because once someone is dead, they don't need anything anymore.
The nurse tried everything, but my body had nothing left to give. Not a single drop.
She stared at the empty syringe, her face pale with alarm.
From outside the door came Blake's furious, impatient roar.
"What are you standing around for? Get that blood to Agatha's room, now!"
The nurse fumbled to pull the blanket over me, then stumbled out of the room.
"Mr. Gilbert, Miss Harding has lost too much blood. There's nothing left to draw!"
Blake frowned and let out a cold grunt.
"Nothing left? Then let her rest for a couple of days and try again."
The blanket covered my face. My consciousness was slipping, dissolving at the edges.
Even so, when I heard his words, I couldn't help but laugh. A cold, quiet laugh.
A couple of days?
He didn't know I wouldn't survive the next two hours.