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.

Conrad burst into Else's hospital room, his chest heaving, his heart pounding like a drum.

The scene before him was not the bloodbath he had imagined. Else was sitting up in bed, looking perfectly fine. Her wrist was wrapped in a thin layer of white gauze.

A nurse was clearing a tray of medical supplies. Conrad grabbed her by the shoulders. "How bad is it?" he demanded.

The nurse jumped, stammering, "It's just a superficial scratch. It didn't even need stitches. A band-aid would have been enough."

Conrad's mind cleared instantly. The fog of panic lifted, replaced by a burning, all-consuming rage. He slowly turned his head to stare at Cristin.

Cristin avoided his gaze, her voice defensive. "The wound might be shallow, but her heart is broken! She really wanted to die!"

"Get out," Conrad said, the word clipped and cold. He turned to leave.

Else saw her plan failing. She scrambled out of bed, throwing her arms around Conrad's waist from behind.

"Don't go!" she cried, burying her face in his back. "I'm scared, Conrad! I'm scared you'll hate me!"

Conrad pried her fingers off, one by one. He shoved her away, letting her fall to the floor like a piece of trash.

He was almost at the door when the head nurse, Jenna, came running down the hall. She nearly collided with him.

"Mr. Anderson!" she gasped, out of breath. "Your wife is hemorrhaging! She needs Rh-negative O blood immediately! The blood bank is empty!"

Conrad went rigid. He pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen. "I'll send a helicopter. I'll get it from another state."

Jenna shook her head, her eyes desperate. "There's no time! She's bleeding out too fast. She has maybe fifteen minutes. She won't survive until the chopper gets back."

Fifteen minutes. The number hit Conrad like a death sentence. He stood frozen, a wave of absolute despair washing over him.

On the floor, Else had been listening. A slow, sinister smile crept across her face. She stood up, brushing off her hospital gown.

"I'm Rh-negative O," she said casually, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

Conrad whipped around. He strode over to her, grabbing her shoulders. "Then come with me. Now."

"Not so fast," she said, her eyes locked on his. "If you want my blood, you sign the divorce papers. Right now."

Conrad stared at her, the woman he had thought was an angel, the woman he had protected for years. It was like seeing her for the first time. His gaze dropped to her smirk, then back up to her calculating eyes. He looked into her eyes, seeing not the gentle woman he thought he knew, but a greedy, venomous stranger. A cold dread, separate from his agonizing fear for Crista, began to coil in his gut. The illusion of Else as a pure, innocent savior shattered completely in that split second. The realization that he had been manipulated, that he had sacrificed his wife for a monster, hit him like a freight train. Rage boiled over, hot and blinding. He lunged, his large hand shooting out and wrapping around her throat, slamming her against the wall. "Are you out of your mind?" he snarled.

Else choked, her face turning red, but she didn't look scared. She smirked, a cruel, mocking sound. "Go ahead. Kill me. But if I die, she dies too."

Cristin shrieked, throwing herself at Conrad, hitting his arm, trying to free her daughter. The room was a chaotic mess of screaming and struggling.

Nurse Jenna stamped her foot, tears of frustration in her eyes. "Mr. Anderson! We don't have time! Her BP is crashing!"

Conrad's hand trembled against Else's neck. He looked into her eyes, seeing nothing but greed and malice. He knew he was beaten.

He let go, taking a step back. He closed his eyes, the defeat and pain etched into every line of his face.

"Fine," he said, his voice a broken whisper. "I'll sign."

Else let out a triumphant laugh. She rushed to the drawer, pulling out the divorce papers she had kept waiting. She shoved them, along with a pen, into Conrad's hands.

Conrad took the pen. The tip touched the paper. With a violent slash, he signed his name, the pen tearing through the sheet. He had just signed away his marriage, and possibly his soul, to save his wife's life.