Chapter 11 The Accident
Ryan’s worried voice snapped the patient’s family back to their senses.
Seizing the brief window, Ginny quickly filled him in on what had happened. She didn’t go into too much detail-just the essentials-and then asked for help. “Can someone on your end deliver the blood?”
The nurse had already spoken with the Dean of the other hospital. But at their current pace, the delivery might not make
it in time.
Ginny remembered something-Ryan had once told her that one of the interns on his hospital project loved racing and was an excellent rider.
That stuck with her.
Now, with a life hanging in the balance, she couldn’t think of a better solution.
Ryan told her to take care of herself, then hung up.
Security staff arrived shortly after and
formed a circle around the doctors and nurses, gently trying to calm the patient’s family.
“Dr. Jenkins has already contacted a friend to bring the blood,” one of them
explained. “All you need to do now is wait, just a little longer.”
Not far from the crowd, Melody discreetly
typed a message and hit send.
The lead professor intercepted Martin the moment he exited the lab, thrusting the sealed thermal case at his chest. “Clock
starts now – Jenkins’ OR in fifteen. This
isn’t a practice run, Meyer. Lives are literally in your hands.”
Martin ended his call, threw on his biker jacket, and rolled out his motorcycle,
nodding the whole time.
Moments later, the bike roared to life and sped off, vanishing down the road.
From the affiliated hospital to Aurelius Hospital, he had to cross two main roads.
Thankfully, it wasn’t rush hour, so traffic lights weren’t a huge issue.
Things started off smooth. Within five minutes, he’d made it to the second road. All that was left was to pass through the
next intersection and make a turn.
Then he’d be there.
But just as he waited at the red light, an electric scooter crashed into his bike.
The rider was an elderly man.
People nearby rushed over, worried about the old man, urging Martin to dismount and stay until everything was checked out.
Martin tried reasoning with him. “I’m
heading to the hospital. How about we both go there and wait for the traffic police together?”
But the old man said nothing. He just sat on the curb in silence, unmoving.
The bystanders began glaring at Martin like he was the one at fault. And now,
there were only three minutes left on the
clock.
As he stood there, unsure what to do, his phone rang. It was Ginny.
“Dr. Jenkins, I’m really sorry. Something happened on the road. I’m trying to resolve it now, but don’t worry, I’ll get there.
The second she heard that there’d been a
crash, her heart clenched.
And unfortunately, the patient’s family overheard the call. They had just calmed down, but now the rage flared up again.
Tears streaming down her face, the grandmother shouted, “If anything happens to my grandson, I won’t go on living either!”
The staff stood frozen, unsure how to
defuse the situation.
Ginny was quiet for several seconds. Then she stepped forward and whispered to a nurse, “I’m Type B. Take my blood.”
The family lit up instantly. Some even
scolded her for not saying so earlier.
But the nurse looked worried. “The patient’s losing a lot of blood. We’ll need quite a bit. Dr. Jenkins, you just had a miscarriage not long ago. You’re not in any condition to donate.”
That only made the family more agitated.
“That was days ago!” one of them shouted. “She looks fine now-why can’t she donate? If she doesn’t, my grandson’s going to die! Between a weak body and a life on the line, which one’s more important? You’re doctors-do I really have to explain this to you?”
Fearing Ginny might back out, the old woman called her husband over.
Together, they stood one on each side, watching her like hawks as she donated.
“Okay, that’s 400ml. We can’t take any more,” the nurse said, starting to pull
away.
But the doctor hesitated, glancing toward Ginny.
She met his eyes and understood.
“How much more?” she asked, jaw tight.
“Roughly another 400ml.”
The nurse’s voice shot up, panicked. “Dr. Brown, you can’t seriously expect Dr.
Jenkins to give 800ml on her own. That’s dangerous.”
to Bonus
She turned to Dr. Eason Brown, begging him to ask around the hospital for another donor.
But the patient’s family wasn’t having it.
“Didn’t Dr. Brown just say it? Even if she gives that much, she just needs a couple days of rest. She’ll be fine.”
They refused to let Ginny leave.
+8 Bonus
