Hope went boneless against Daniel's chest, her expression smug where he couldn't see it.

“Dr. Fox, I know you've always hated me, but you can't just hurt me on purpose.”

“If the bleeding doesn't stop, whose blood do you think they'll use for the transfusion?”

A cold laugh escaped me. Bitter tears pooled along my lashes.

Daniel's face tightened, a flicker of guilt crossing it as he patted Hope lightly.

“Hope, what are you saying?”

Then he hurried her out, shielding her the whole way. Not once did he spare me a glance.

Not once did he notice the blood trailing slowly from the corner of my mouth.

Getting angry over people like them wasn't worth it. I told myself that, silently.

I spent a while steadying my breathing, then pressed the call button beside the bed.

There was a dull ache lodged in my chest. I wanted a colleague to come check the machine's calibration.

But the person who walked in moments later was Hope.

Her fingers had already been neatly bandaged, the careful, precise wrapping unmistakably Daniel's handiwork.

My body went rigid. I met her contemptuous gaze.

“What, trying to use the call button to summon Daniel back to your side?”

So she was only here to gloat. I closed my eyes, uninterested.

My indifference seemed to infuriate her. Her voice rose, sharp and agitated.

“Drop the act, Sybilla. I'm telling you, your chance is gone!”

“These past few days, hasn't the pain in your chest been more frequent than before the surgery?”

“Care to guess why?”

My eyes snapped open. “You tampered with it?”

Hope let out a satisfied laugh, then patted my back as it heaved with every ragged breath.

“That's right. So stop wasting your energy.”

By the time she left I was drenched in sweat, the hand gripping the recorder under the blanket trembling without stop.

If leaving was my fate, I wasn't going to let Daniel and Hope have peace either.

Daniel Vance. Loss doesn't feel good. Your turn to find out.