Reaching a deserted part of the corridor, he lit a cigarette with trembling hands.
Heâd quit smoking but sometimes, in distress, heâd indulge.
Thin wisps of gray smoke curled up, blurring his vision with tears.
Instead of returning to the ward, he buried himself in his phone.
Breaking news flashed across screens.
At nine in the morning, chaos struck Duefron with a massive pileup.
Among the wreckage was an emergency center blood transfusion truck.
Reports flooded in, mentioning casualties, including Waylen, the ex-
CEO of Fowler Group.
Leonelâs face paled as he scrolled through updates.
âThe ex-CEOâs in critical condition after the accident,â he muttered.
âWaylenâs got rare rh-negative blood.
The bankâs running dry.
Heâs hanging on by a thread,â echoed more headlines.
The cigarette butt dropped from Leonelâs fingers.
Dialing swiftly, he placed a call.
âDr.
Nguyen, itâs Leonel.
Iâm at Pinnacle Hospital⦠Yes, get my blood drawn ASAP and sent over quietly.
â
He ended the call, glancing toward the ward.
âs BunnyBookery
In the blood collection room, Dr.
Nguyen drew Leonelâs blood personally.
âUsually, we have supplies stored.
But this timeâs different.
â
Leonel knew.
Alexis had depleted his reserves during childbirth.
Now, Waylen needed a lot.
Dark red blood flowed into the tube.
Killian warned, âYouâre pushing it.
Any more and youâll crash.
â
Leonelâs smile was weak.
âDraw another two hundred.
It might not be enough.
â
Speaking, Leonel fished out a cigarette.
Killian squeezed his hand, whispering, âThe nurse will bring some milk later.
Take care and you shouldnât smoke all day long.
â
Leonel just grinned.
After a while, Killian stowed the plasma.
Rushed to Waylen, the hospital dispatched it.
Leonel wanted to tag along, but Marcus interrupted with a call.
Ignoring it, Leonel knew Marcusâ game.
Three calls later, he answered the fourth one, his voice icy, âHave Alexis beg me.
â