Chapter 3

Jason scooped Hester up and ran for the emergency room,

shouting as he went,

'Doctor! Get Fiona in there now, she needs to give Hester blood!'

And in the moment he turned,

his eyes landed on me,

and every trace of the tenderness from before was gone, swallowed whole by his panic, nothing left of it at all…

By the time his back disappeared around the corner of the hallway,

two thickset doctors had already clamped down hard on my wrists,

and as I was laid out again on the cold operating table,

I heard the doctor arguing with Jason.

'Mr. Delgado, we cannot take more blood today, not under any circumstances. Do you understand? Miss Roman's body has already reached its lim—'

'Shut up!'

Jason cut him off, seething.

'If I hadn't just seen her with my own eyes, the way you people talk, you'd have had me terrified this whole time!'

'So she's a little weak, so her skin has some allergic reaction, so what? Hester has an illness that could kill her!'

'It's not that bad…'

The doctor kept pressing.

'Miss Delgado has recovered. If she's dizzy now, it is absolutely not from blood loss. If anything, it's Miss Roman who—'

'Enough!'

A crash came from outside the door.

Jason had slammed his fist down on the doctor's desk.

'Has the Delgado money not been good enough for you? I keep you people employed so you can turn around and fight me?'

'I know exactly what shape Fiona is in. Say one more word and see if your worthless lives are worth it.'

Outside the room, everything went dead silent.

The forearm-long draw needle sank once more into the puncture site that had long since gone bruised and raw…

Watching the deep red blood seep out of me, drop by drop,

I felt as though part of my soul was being drawn out along with it.

'Miss…'

The doctor's lowered voice pulled me back.

He pressed a small paper packet into my palm and bent down close to my ear.

'I drew far less than they wanted this time, on purpose.'

'Take these three pills. One under your tongue every night. They might just save your life…'

Fifteen minutes or so later, four thickset men came into the operating room,

wheeled me out of the hospital, and loaded me into Jason's car.

Jason was already inside,

and when the door opened,

Hester was feeding him snacks,

her eyes bright, her movements playful, nothing at all like someone who was sick.

'Jason, try this one, the wasabi flavor, I think it's the best…'

Jason wore an indulgent smile as he swallowed the wasabi chip without a moment's hesitation.

He never ate snacks.

Back when we used to watch movies, he'd spit out even the popcorn I tucked into his mouth.

He's allergic to wasabi,

and wasabi was my favorite, but for his sake, I never touched it again.

Yet now, for her, there was nothing he wouldn't do…

He must have caught sight of me,

because his chewing froze for an instant.

He turned to look at me.

'All right, Fiona, sit properly. We're going home.'

All right.

Five years and seventy-eight days,

this enormous deception, these two thousand days and nights of lies,

and all it earned me were those two words. All right…