Alex got up and poured Deanna a cup of hot water.
She fished two pills out of her purse and swallowed them quickly.
“What are you taking?” Alex asked.
“Just some cold medicine,” she answered, but he wasn’t convinced.
The Deanna he remembered was always so full of life—not like this, pale and tired, barely keeping her head up.
Worried, Alex reached for her hand. “Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Deanna grabbed his arm, shaking her head over and over. “No, please, I really don’t need to go. I’m fine, honestly. Hospitals freak me out.”
No matter what Alex said, she wouldn’t budge. As they argued, he accidentally brushed against her arm.
She winced, letting out a sharp breath like he’d hurt her.
Alex froze. “Did I hurt you? Wait, you’re bleeding!”
He pushed up her sleeve, and sure enough, blood was trickling down her wrist, soaking into the gauze underneath.
“How did this happen?” His voice wavered with panic.
He grabbed the first aid kit, carefully rolling her sleeve all the way up. The bandage was soaked through—he must have made it worse when they struggled.
Alex cleaned the wound and wrapped it up again, then sat back, searching her face for answers.
“Deanna, what happened to your arm?”
She just looked down, silent.
“Can’t you tell me?” he asked, softer this time.
Slowly, Deanna lifted her gaze, her eyes shining with tears. She looked heartbreakingly fragile.
“I… I saw how sick you were, and I heard somewhere that adding a little human blood to medicine can help someone recover faster. That’s why, the herbal soups I brought you these past few days… I put some of my own blood in them.”


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