Chapter 3
“You‘ re awake! Oh, Harriet, thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me.” Amber‘ s soft, sweet voice grated against my nerves as she entered the hospital room, carrying a tray of steaming soup. “I brought this for you. You need to regain your strength.”
I glanced at her, my body too frail to sit up properly. “I’m not hungry.”
Her expression faltered, but only for a moment. Then she plastered on that same smile, the one she always used to charm Zack. “But I made it just for you. It’s the least I could do after everything you‘ ve sacrificed
for me.”
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“Amber, I said I’m not hungry,” I repeated, turning my head away.
The crash of ceramic against the floor made me flinch. I whipped my head around to see the shattered remains of the bowl, soup splattered across the pristine tiles. Amber stood there, trembling, tears streaming down
her cheeks.
“Why did you do that?” she sobbed, her voice quivering. “If you didn’t want it, you could‘ ve just said so. You didn’t have to throw it!”
“What?” I gasped, my chest tightening. “I didn‘ t-”
The door burst open, and Zack strode in, his eyes immediately darting to the mess on the floor and then to Amber‘ s tear–streaked face.
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“What’s going on here?”
“Harriet,” Amber whimpered, clutching her chest as if she were on the verge of collapsing.
“She… she didn’t want the food I made for
her. I just wanted to help, but she threw it and yelled at me.”
“That’s a lie!” I shot back, my voice shaking with anger. “I never touched that bowl. She threw it herself!”
Zack’s eyes narrowed as he turned to me. “Harriet, enough.”
“Enough?” I sputtered. “She‘ s lying, Zack! I didn’t do anything!”
But he didn’t want to hear it. His focus was already back on Amber, his voice gentle, soothing. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. You don’t need this stress.”
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He scooped her into his arms as if she were a fragile doll, whispering reassurances as she buried her face in his chest. At the door, he paused and glanced back at me, his expression devoid of warmth.
“Don’t forget,” he said coldly. “Amber needs your blood later. Try to be cooperative.”
The door shut behind them, and I was left alone, the sound of my pounding heart echoing in the sterile silence.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. My chest heaved with suppressed rage, but I knew there was no point in arguing. Zack had made his choice, and it wasn‘ t me.
It never was.
That night, I packed the few things I had in the hospital room then left the divorce
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papers. I placed them neatly on the small table beside the bed for him to immediately
see.
Then, without looking back, I walked out of the hospital. The airport buzzed with activity, the low hum of voices and announcements filling the space. I sank into a chair near my gate, clutching my ticket tightly. My fingers trembled as I stared at the destination:
freedom.
My phone buzzed in my lap, Zack‘ s name flashing across the screen.
I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the answer button. The old Harriet, the one who begged and pleaded for scraps of his
attention, would‘ ve picked up. But that
woman was gone.
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Instead, I let the call go to voicemail.
Seconds later, another call came through.
Then a text.
Where are you?
You‘ re late for Amber‘ s transfusion.
Harriet, answer me!
A bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat as I typed my reply.
I’m done being her blood bank, Zack. I’m running away with your heirs, and you‘ 11 never see us again.
I hit send and blocked his number before I could second–guess myself.
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