Chapter 2

At seven o'clock in the evening, the dorm room door burst open and my roommate, Larissa Robertson, stormed in. "Quinn! Did you seriously refuse to donate bone marrow to Hannah?"

I looked up at her shocked expression and nodded placidly. "Yeah."

"Are you out of your mind? That's Hannah, your childhood best friend!" Larissa said, almost shouting. "The whole campus is talking about how heartless and selfish you are, refusing to save her just because you're afraid of a little pain."

"What about you, Larissa?" I shot back. "Are you willing to get tested to see if you're compatible with Hannah?"

Larissa froze, then stammered awkwardly, "I... I barely know her..."

"Figures," I sneered. "You're guilt-tripping me while keeping your distance. How hypocritical."

Just then, the dorm door flew open again as Mason barged in, sweating profusely. "Quinn, what the hell is wrong with you? Hannah's frantic with worry. Why did you suddenly back out?"

I looked at his anxious face and suddenly found it ridiculous. In my previous life, while I was writhing in pain on that hospital bed, those two had already been flirting with each other.

Not long after I died, they had gone public with their relationship, under the pretense of being "kindred spirits."

I looked Mason straight in the eye and demanded, "Mason, answer me. If you were asked to donate bone marrow to save Hannah, would you do it?"

Mason's face stiffened for a moment, but he quickly retorted, "Of course I would. But I'm not a match for her."

"Funny how well-matched you two are in other ways," I murmured under my breath.

"What... did you just say?" Mason's face darkened.

I suddenly let out a laugh. "Nothing, really. I've just decided to value my own health. Bone marrow donation isn't exactly risk-free. You, as a future doctor, should know that better than anyone, right?"

Mason stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Quinn, do you know what people are saying about you on social media? Everyone's calling you heartless. Hannah's been sobbing so hard she actually passed out twice. How can you just stand there and watch her suffer like this?"

"Oh? She passed out from crying twice? So did you bother looking for other donors, or am I the only one you know how to pressure?"

Mason trembled with rage. "You—I don't know when you became so damn selfish!"

I flashed a faint smile. "Maybe it's because I've seen through some people's true colors."

The next morning, a loud banging at the door jolted me awake.

When I opened the door, I froze. There stood Elliot Cooley, Hannah's father, his eyes bloodshot, with several relatives crowding behind him.

"Quinn, I'm begging you!" he suddenly cried, startling me into reaching out to calm him. "You're Hannah's only hope. You two grew up together. She treats you like a sister. How can you just stand by and watch her die?"

In the dormitory hallway, students stopped to gawk and whisper. My face burned with shame as I forced myself to say, "Mr. Cooley, please get up. It's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" Elliot grabbed my hand. "The doctors said you're a perfect match—the ideal donor. Quinn, please, I'm begging you. Please save Hannah!"

I took a deep breath and explained, "It's just that my health—"

"Your health? The doctors just said you were perfectly healthy yesterday!" Gianna suddenly pushed her way in, her eyes puffy from crying.

She added, "Quinn, how can you just stand by and watch Hannah die? You two grew up together. She cherishes you like family. How could you..."

Sandwiched between Hannah's parents, I felt the weight of judgmental stares from my classmates all around me. Some even pulled out their phones to record the scene.

I could barely breathe. It was just like that helpless, desperate moment in my previous life when I had been pushed down the stairs.

"Mrs. Cooley, bone marrow donation poses serious risks for me," I said through gritted teeth. "The bone marrow registry must have other compatible donors."

"How long will it take? Can Hannah really afford to wait?" Gianna shrieked hysterically. "Just because you're scared of pain, you'd let Hannah die?"

"It's not about the pain." I finally couldn't hold back any longer and raised my voice. "Bone marrow donation can cause infection, bleeding, anemia, and even life-threatening complications. I have the right to protect my own life too."

"You—" Gianna shook with rage. "After all the love Hannah's shown you! She thought of you first when she was hospitalized, worrying sick about you. How could you be so heartless?"

I let out a cold laugh. She had said the exact same thing in my previous life. But Hannah's way of "caring" for me was making eyes at Mason by my hospital bed, scheming to steal everything from me.

"Tell me, who's really being heartless here?" I fired back. "Just because our blood types match, you feel entitled to demand I risk my life? What would you call that if not heartlessness?"

Elliot was taken aback by my outburst and calmed down slightly. He said, "Quinn, don't get worked up. We're just so worried about Hannah."

I took a deep breath. "Mr. Cooley, I understand how you feel, but please respect my decision as well. It's not that I'm abandoning Hannah. I just can't risk my own life."

"You—" Gianna was about to continue when a sharp voice suddenly cut in. "What's going on here? Why is everyone crowding around?"

Everyone turned to see the dorm supervisor, standing there with her hands on her hips.

I exhaled in relief. "It's nothing, ma'am. They just needed to talk to me."

"Stop causing such a commotion in the hallway. You're disturbing others!" the dorm supervisor snapped, waving them away impatiently. "Out, all of you."

The Cooley family members were forcibly escorted out by the dorm supervisor, but not before firing a final parting shot. "Your conscience will haunt you for this!"

I leaned against the door, hit by a sudden dizzy spell.

My phone buzzed with a text from Mason. [Quinn, Hannah's condition is critical. The doctors say if we can't find a bone marrow donor within a week, she might...]

I didn't even bother reading the rest. I just deleted the message. In my previous life, relentless pressure like this had forced me to agree to donate, and I'd ended up paying the ultimate price. This time, I wouldn't walk into that trap again.

Just as I was lost in thought, my phone rang again—this time from an unknown number. [Quinn, this is Hannah's attending doctor. I understand you've declined the bone marrow donation?

Would you be willing to come in so I can explain the procedure risks in detail? There may be some misunderstandings.]

I forced a bitter smile. They really played their cards well this time.

In my previous life, it was this very doctor who had sworn that bone marrow donation was almost risk-free. But after the surgery, I developed an infection, and my health just kept going downhill.

I replied: [Doctor, I appreciate your concern, but my decision is final. I wish Hannah a speedy recovery.]

My phone kept buzzing incessantly. Fed up, I simply turned it off, curled up on the bed, and hugged my knees to my chest.

I thought that with this second chance at life, saying no would be easy. But I never expected my heart would still be in such turmoil.

After all, Hannah had been my closest friend. We'd shared a genuine bond. But in the end, she'd chosen betrayal.