The next morning, Crista was resting in her hospital bed, trying to ignore the persistent ache in her belly. Suddenly, the door was thrown open with such force that the handle banged against the wall.

Crista jolted awake. Her father, Gardner, and her stepmother, Cristin, stormed into the room, their faces twisted in anger.

Gardner didn't say a word. He strode to the bed and raised his hand. Slap! The sound echoed in the small room. The blow snapped Crista's head to the side, pain exploding across her cheek. A metallic taste filled her mouth.

Cristin stood behind him, gasping in mock horror, though her eyes were gleeful. She grabbed Gardner's arm, pretending to hold him back. "Gardner, no! Don't hit her!"

Gardner pointed a shaking finger at Crista's face. "You ungrateful brat! You refuse to divorce him, and now you're going next door to bully poor Else? Are you trying to ruin this family?"

Crista pressed a hand to her stinging cheek. She looked at the man who was supposed to be her father, and a deep chill settled in her bones.

She lifted her head, her eyes devoid of any warmth. "Let me guess. Else ran to you crying again."

Cristin immediately switched to a look of heartbroken disappointment. "Crista, you're so malicious! The Anderson Group is our only lifeline. Why are you trying to destroy the marriage?"

Crista laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. "Finally showing your true colors, aren't we? This isn't about marriage. It's about selling your daughter for a corporate bailout."

She struggled into a sitting position, fighting through the pain in her abdomen. She locked eyes with Gardner, who had the decency to look away.

"Three years ago," Crista said, her voice rising, "the Cherry family was on the brink of bankruptcy. You got me drunk. You set me up with Conrad. You forced us into a marriage so you could get the bailout money!"

Gardner's face turned purple with rage. He raised his hand again, ready to strike.

Crista didn't flinch. She stared him down. "Hit me," she challenged coldly. "And I will call the press right now and expose every financial fraud this family has committed."

Gardner's hand froze in mid-air. A flicker of fear crossed his eyes. Slowly, he lowered his arm.

Cristin switched tactics. She began to wail, dabbing at her eyes. "We raised you! We gave you everything! Is this how you repay us? You owe us!"

Crista cut her off. "Repay you?" she scoffed. "Did you think about 'repayment' when you stole my mother's trust fund?"

The words hit Cristin like a physical blow. Her face went white. She screeched like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "You bitch!"

Cristin lunged at the bed. She grabbed Crista's arm, her nails digging in, and shook her violently.

The sudden, violent movement was too much for her already traumatized body. A blinding, tearing pain ripped through her healing abdomen. The incomplete miscarriage had left her incredibly vulnerable, and the rough handling caused something inside to rupture. She doubled over, clutching her stomach, her face draining of all color.

Gardner stood by, unmoved. "Stop playing games," he snapped impatiently. "Just sign the papers."

But Crista couldn't hear him. Her breathing became ragged. Cold sweat poured down her face. She felt a hot, heavy gush between her legs.

She looked down. A bright, terrifying red stain was rapidly spreading across the white hospital sheets.

Cristin saw the blood and screamed. She let go of Crista as if she had touched a hot stove, stumbling backward.

Gardner froze, his face going slack as he stared at the blood, stammering incoherently.

Just then, the door opened again. Conrad walked in, pushing Else in a wheelchair.

Conrad's gaze swept the room, landing on the horrific amount of blood on the bed. His pupils dilated in shock.

Crista weakly lifted her head. She looked past her panicked parents, her eyes locking onto Conrad.

She tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Her vision went black. She collapsed backward onto the blood-soaked mattress, losing consciousness.

Conrad stared at the expanding pool of blood on the white sheets. His brain felt like it had been hit by a sledgehammer. For one second, there was nothing but white noise.

In the wheelchair, Else saw the blood. Instead of fear, a flash of malicious triumph flickered in her eyes.

Conrad snapped out of his daze. He shoved Gardner aside, sending the older man stumbling, and rushed to the bed.

He reached out with a trembling hand, pressing his fingers to Crista's neck. The pulse was there, but it was thready. A strangled sound tore from his throat. "Doctor!" he roared.

Footsteps echoed in the hall. Audrey burst through the door, dragging her cousin in surgical scrubs behind her. It was Dr. Caleb Arnold, the trauma surgeon she had mentioned earlier. Caleb took one look at the blood-soaked bed and his face hardened. His protective instinct flared instantly. He shoved Conrad hard in the chest. "Get the hell away from her!" he barked.

Conrad stumbled back, his shock turning to anger. He raised a fist, but Caleb was already at the bedside, his hands moving with practiced speed to apply pressure to the bleeding.

Audrey threw herself at Cristin, slapping the woman hard across the face. "Murderers!" she screamed. "You killed her!"

Nurses rushed in with a crash cart. The room erupted into chaos. Alarms blared from the monitors.

"OR now!" Caleb yelled. "Get the gurney!"

They lifted Crista onto the stretcher. Conrad instinctively moved to help, but Audrey blocked his path.

Her eyes were red, her face contorted with hatred. She pointed a finger at his chest. "If she dies," she hissed, "I will make you pay with your life! You already took her baby!"

Conrad went pale. "Baby?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. "What baby?"

The gurney started moving toward the door. In the jostling, Crista's eyes fluttered open. Her hazy gaze found Conrad, standing frozen in the middle of the room.

With a monumental effort, she ripped the oxygen mask from her face. Her voice was weak, but the words hit Conrad like a physical blow.

"The baby you killed in the ocean," she gasped out, her voice a fragile thread. "It was yours. And now it's gone."

She let out a bitter, mocking smile, and then her eyes rolled back. She went limp, unconscious once more.

Conrad's hand dropped to his side. The strength drained from his legs. He staggered backward, his back hitting the wall with a thud.

The gurney was wheeled out at a run, leaving a trail of bloody drops on the linoleum.

Else saw the shift in Conrad's demeanor. She quickly rolled her wheelchair toward him, grabbing the edge of his jacket. "Conrad... maybe she's lying. You can't trust her."

Conrad slowly turned his head to look at Else. The look in his eyes was feral, so full of rage that Else flinched back, shutting her mouth instantly.

He ignored her. He took off running, following the trail of blood toward the operating rooms.

At the end of the hall, the gurney disappeared behind the heavy metal doors. The red "In Surgery" light clicked on with a final, decisive buzz.

Conrad slammed into the doors. He pounded his fists against the cold metal, the sound echoing his despair.

Audrey walked up beside him. She let out a cold, bitter laugh. She reached into her bag and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper she had found in Crista's apartment earlier. She threw it at his face with all her might.

The paper hit his chest and fluttered to the floor. Conrad looked down.

It was an ultrasound image. The black and white graininess showed a tiny, eight-week-old gestational sac.

The proof was undeniable. Conrad's psychological defenses crumbled. His knees gave out. He sank to the floor in front of the operating room doors.

He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking violently. A sound like a wounded animal escaped his throat.

At the end of the corridor, Caleb had changed into his surgical gown. He paused, looking coldly at the man kneeling on the floor. Then he turned and walked into the OR. The doors swung shut, locking Conrad out in the silence of the hallway.

Time crawled by. The red light above the operating room door glared down like a bloodshot eye, staring unblinkingly at the people in the hallway.

Conrad pushed himself up from the floor. He paced the corridor like a caged animal, his suit jacket soaked through with cold sweat.

Audrey sat on the bench, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, praying. She didn't look at Conrad. The air was thick with suffocating silence.

Suddenly, the OR door cracked open. A nurse hurried out, clutching a clipboard.

Conrad lunged at her, grabbing her arm. "How is she?" he demanded, his voice hoarse and broken.

The nurse looked anxious. "The patient has lost a massive amount of blood. The uterus is severely damaged. You need to sign the critical condition notice immediately."

Conrad stared at the thin piece of paper. He took the pen she offered, but his hand shook so violently he couldn't form the letters.

Just then, a wailing cry echoed down the hall, shattering the tense atmosphere.

Cristin came running toward them, her hair a mess, one high heel missing. She threw herself at Conrad, grabbing his sleeve.

"Conrad!" she sobbed. "Else... Else slit her wrists in her room! There's blood everywhere! You have to come!"

Conrad stared at her, his mind blank. "That's impossible," he muttered.

Cristin fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "She feels so guilty! She thinks it's her fault the baby died! She doesn't want to live anymore! Please, you have to see her!"

She grabbed his legs, wailing, "She saved your life all those years ago! She would have died for you! Are you going to let her die now?"

Conrad was torn. One side of the hall held his wife and his unborn child, fighting for their lives. The other side held the woman he believed had once saved his life.

Audrey jumped up, her face red with fury. She shoved Cristin away. "You're lying! Why now? Why the hell would she try to kill herself right now?"

Cristin collapsed on the floor, throwing a tantrum. "You're the heartless one! If Else dies, Conrad will never forgive himself! His conscience will never be clear!"

Those words hit Conrad like a curse. The moral debt he owed Else, the ingrained belief that he owed her his life, paralyzed him.

The nurse tapped her foot impatiently. "Sir, we don't have time. Please sign."

Conrad gritted his teeth. He scribbled his signature on the critical notice and shoved the clipboard back at the nurse.

He turned to Audrey, his eyes bloodshot. "Stay here," he said, his voice raw. "Watch her. I have to go check on Else."

Audrey stared at him in disbelief. She drew back her hand and slapped him hard across the face. "You heartless bastard!" she screamed.

Conrad took the hit. A red handprint bloomed on his cheek, but he didn't fight back. He took one last, long look at the OR doors.

Then, he turned and walked away, following Cristin down the hall.

Audrey watched his retreating back, her whole body trembling with rage. "If you walk away now, Conrad," she yelled after him, "she will never forgive you! Never!"

Conrad's step faltered for a fraction of a second. But he didn't turn around. He disappeared around the corner.

Inside the operating room, Caleb was working furiously. "Suture," he barked. "Her BP is dropping."

The anesthesiologist looked up. "Doctor, we're running out of blood. She needs a transfusion."

Caleb held out his hand. "Give me the Rh-negative O blood."

The nurse hesitated, her face paling. "Doctor... the blood bank is out. There was a major multi-car pile-up on the interstate an hour ago that depleted our entire emergency supply of O-negative. The next shipment won't arrive for at least two hours."

Caleb's scalpel paused for a split second. "Then call the donor registry! Get it here! Now!"

On the table, Crista's face was as white as the sheets. The line on the heart monitor began to flatten, the peaks becoming smaller and smaller.