Chapter 2

"Move! Get two IV lines in, pressure infusion — get on the phone with the blood bank!"

"Doctor, the patient's blood pressure just dropped to fifty. Blood loss is over two thousand milliliters!"

"Where are those two units of packed red cells we had on reserve?"

I drifted above the operating room, watching a team of people work frantically around my body.

Dr. Brown's surgical gown was soaked through with my blood.

I tried to touch my stomach. My hand passed through the air.

Mia's shot was nothing like the graze Jason thought it was.

She had timed it between the nurse's rounds and slipped the handgun into her sleeve.

After pulling the trigger, she pressed her lips to my ear and whispered: "Once you and the baby are gone, Jason will only have me."

"The blood bank just called back. Those two reserve units — Captain Jason signed them out five minutes ago."

The nurse's voice cracked. "Signed them out? Is he out of his mind? That blood is for a high-risk delivery!"

The veins on the back of Dr. Brown's hand stood out sharp against his skin.

"Captain Jason said Miss Mia has a severe clotting disorder. A scrape on her arm. He said she needed the blood as an emergency precaution."

The operating room went still.

Only the monitor kept screaming.

I watched Dr. Brown pack gauze in desperately, trying to find the bleeding.

I wanted to tell him: "Don't bother."

I never got the next shipment of blood Jason had promised.

The fetal heartbeat on the monitor slowed from frantic — to sluggish — to a single, unbroken tone.

The baby who had been kicking me just minutes ago went completely quiet.

"Fetal heart rate: absent."

"Patient in ventricular fibrillation — prepare to defibrillate!"

"Two hundred joules. Charging. Clear."

A heavy thud.

My body jolted off the table, then dropped back down.

The ECG line flickered a few times, then went flat.

"Captain Jason said the next blood shipment from the city blood bank is ten minutes out."

The head nurse pushed open the door, eyes red.

Dr. Brown set down the defibrillator. His voice came out barely recognizable.

"We won't need it. Time of death: 8:07 PM."

I watched a nurse lift the white sheet and draw it over my face, covering the eyes that would not close.

Just on the other side of the wall, in the VIP room, Jason was dabbing antiseptic on the scrape at Mia's elbow.

"Jason — did I kill someone?"

Mia curled up on the hospital bed, shoulders trembling.

Jason tossed the cotton swab into the waste bin, his voice steady.

"No. She just had a surface wound. You were in an episode — you couldn't control yourself. There's no legal liability."

"But she bled so much. The way she looked at me was terrifying."

"That was amniotic fluid mixed with blood. It looked worse than it was. She has a medical background — she knew how to avoid the vital areas."

Jason leaned down and blew gently on Mia's arm, which had already stopped bleeding.

"You're the one I'm worried about. You know your clotting is bad — why were you running around? What if that scrape hadn't stopped?"

Mia leaned into his chest, her tears soaking into his jacket.

On the hem of that jacket, the bloody handprint I had left in my last moments was still there.

"I was scared that once the baby came, you wouldn't want me anymore. I couldn't stop myself."

"Don't think like that."

Jason ran his hand over her hair.

"I already had her put her fingerprint on the waiver. Once she delivers and her emotions settle down, I'll have her come tell you herself that everything's fine."

He spoke as though he were scheduling a meeting for the next morning.

The door to the trauma room swung open.

Dr. Brown pulled off his blood-covered mask, his voice scraped hollow.

"We lost them both. The mother and the baby."

And in the room next door, Jason was still bent over Mia, gently blowing on that shallow little scrape on her elbow.

---