As long as my son's life could be saved, I wouldn't argue about anything anymore.
The brick phone in my pocket rang—bringing the good news that my son's bone marrow match had succeeded.
I almost cried tears of joy.
As I passed by Derek, I laughed softly and said, "It's just a woman. If you like picking up trash, go right ahead."
Then I hurried to the hospital.
But I missed the resentment and malice in his eyes.
When I arrived and asked the doctor when surgery could be done, he stammered out that the bone marrow source had been taken up again.
It was like being struck by lightning. I almost couldn't believe my own ears.
"Doctor, who took it? We waited so long—we finally got our turn!"
"It was… Director Sullivan."
I froze. All the blood in my body rushed backward, ice-cold.
A small hand gripped my palm. My son looked up at me, eyes wide.
"Dad, am I going to die again?"
It felt like my chest was being ripped open. My voice shook. "N-no. You won't. Dad won't let that happen."
I was about to call Jasmine when I saw her in the next room, hovering over Tommy's bed.
"Mrs. Sullivan arranged the best room for you, Tommy. Just hang in there!"