Chapter 2 Rare Blood Type

• As she ascended the stairs, exhaustion weighed heavily on Zayla as she fumbled for her keys. Wearily turning the key to the left, the door swung open. Stepping inside, her foggy mind snapped to attention at the strange ambiance within the room. A phone conversation through the door caught her ear. Joaquin had returned.
• Should I disclose my stomach cancer? Will he express concern for me upon hearing the news? Zayla mulled over these questions incessantly. Before fully processing her thoughts, she pushed the door open and found Joaquin approaching sternly. "Why have you been messing around? I've been trying to reach you!"
• Messing around?If undergoing blood tests and a gastroscopy at the hospital amounts to "messing around," then yes, I certainly was "messing around." After all, she was now facing serious health issues. Tears welled in her eyes, unnoticed by Joaquin as he gazed at her accusatorily for her unreturned calls.
• Zayla retrieved her phone from her bag, but its screen was blank. "It's dead," she replied flatly. She owned two phones. One was for work, and the other was dedicated solely to communicating with Joaquin. Amidst her recent stomach troubles, she had neglected to charge her phone, resulting in missed calls from him.
• "Is there an emergency?" Joaquin's persistent calls hinted at something urgent, and Zayla knew it pertained to Melanie Summer.
• As she finished speaking, Joaquin seized her hand and dragged her outside. "Melanie's been injured, and she's lost a lot of blood. We need to get to the hospital," he urged. His anxiety was solely focused on Melanie. Bitterness flooded Zayla's heart.
• Melanie suffered from a severe coagulation disorder and possessed a rare blood type—Zayla was her sole match. Drenched from the rain, Zayla's long hair clung damply to her back, her lips drained of color, her hands icy cold. Yet, Joaquin remained oblivious to her miserable state. The hospital where Melanie lay was merely a ten-minute stroll away. Still, Joaquin's anxiety propelled him to firmly push Zayla into the back of the car.
• Behind the wheel, Joaquin's gaze remained fixed ahead, occasionally darting to the rearview mirror where he caught sight of Zayla's haggard, blood-drained appearance. Furrowing his brow, he asked, "Why are you so pale?"
• "So, he finally noticed," Zayla muttered to herself sarcastically, lips curling in disdain as a lump formed in her throat. She cracked open the car window, gazing at the rainstorm outside, her body stiffening as the icy rain fell on her skin. Her breath crystallized into mist, and her lashes quivered.
• Joaquin shot her a chilly glance, growing increasingly irritated by her silence. He sensed something amiss with Zayla and couldn't shake the feeling. Yet, Joaquin realized what had happened to her had nothing to do with him. He remained fixed on Melanie's condition as he stepped on the gas, propelling the car forward.