Chapter 6
Andrew went quiet, unsure what to say.
I sighed and pulled the contract out of my bag. "Since we ran into each other, let's get this signed. You can handle the rest with the agent."
He grabbed the pen and signed his name in one swift motion.
As he handed it back, Andrew said, "Claire, if you ever run into any trouble, you can always talk to me at any time."
A suffocating unease pressed down on my chest, leaving me restless and short of breath.
I saw the concern in Andrew's eyes, and though the words were right there, I swallowed them back instead.
Just then, his phone rang.
The moment he answered, his face went pale. "Don't be scared. I'm on my way."
After hanging up, he gave me an apologetic look and said. "Emily's kid has a fever. I need to go."
He strode toward the door, then paused and glanced back. "Take care of yourself."
He left. And this time, he still didn't look back. Always.
I forced a bitter smile, and before I knew it, my eyes were brimming with tears.
Andrew, it's been seven years since the divorce. Why are you still pretending to care so much? Who are you trying to impress?
Drip.
Warm liquid landed on the back of my hand. I glanced down and found nosebleed again.
"Miss, are you alright?" The waiter handed me some tissues, but the blood kept coming no matter how much I wiped.
The world spun around me. I couldn't hold myself up anymore and blacked out.
When I came to, I was in the ICU.
Dr. Lucia was sitting by my bed, her eyes rimmed with red. "Claire Sutton, you must stay in the hospital now. No more running around, you hear me?"
I managed a weak smile. "Is it my time?"
She turned away, tears streaming down her face.
"Life and death are just fate. I've lived thirty-one years, and I'm content," I said, trying to comfort her. "I was there for my parents at the end, and now I'm here for myself. That's not so bad."
"And getting into the Coastal Medical Biobank? That's another way to leave my mark on the world."
She squeezed my hand, nodding as she choked back tears.
Days in the hospital blurred together. It's always IV drips and painkillers, one after another.
One morning, the rain finally stopped. Sunlight poured through the window, warming my face.
I reached out with what little strength I had left, reaching for that sunlight.
"Lucia, the sun's out..."
Meanwhile, at the Fleet Pathology Center.
The assistant snapped to attention and said, "Commander Grant, the body of the first volunteer donor has been delivered to the biobank. The archiving ceremony is scheduled for ten a.m. Please be ready."
Andrew replied in a low voice, "Got it."
In the sterile room, the faint scent of disinfectant hung in the air.
Andrew stood by the examination table, looking at the donor's body covered with a sterile white sheet. For reasons he couldn't explain, his heart skipped a beat.
He put on sterile gloves, his voice solemn. "Everyone, stand at attention. Let's pay our respects to the volunteer donor. A moment of silence."
After a three-second bow of silence, he straightened up, pinched the corner of the white sheet between his fingers, and slowly lifted it.
The researcher next to him held a file and announced clearly.
"Volunteer donor. Name: Claire Sutton. Age: 31. Date of death: June 10, 2026."