Chapter 8

The cardiac monitor screamed-a single, unyielding note that cut through the sterile air.

I spun around. The nurse in the donation room dropped her clipboard, the plastic clattering loudly against the floor.

"Code Blue!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "We're losing the donor!"

I ran into the room. Elena was lying on the gurney, her head lolled to the side. Her skin was translucent, waxy and blue-tinged around the lips. She looked like a broken doll that had been discarded.

"Stop the draw!" I roared.

The nurse yanked the needle from Elena's arm, but blood didn't flow. Her heart had stopped.

"Defibrillator!" the doctor shouted, rushing in.

They worked on her. One shock. Two. Three. Her body jerked with the electricity, a grotesque mimicry of life, lifting off the mattress before collapsing back down with a heavy thud.

But the monitor stayed a flat, green line.

"Time of death, 11:42 PM," the doctor said, his voice heavy with defeat.

I stood frozen. Dead? Just like that? From a blood donation? It didn't make sense. She was young. She should have been able to handle a pint or two.

I walked over to the counter where her file lay open. I needed to understand. I picked up the chart the intake nurse had hurriedly printed from the state database.

My eyes scanned the page. My breath caught in my throat, choking me.

*Patient: Xiang Wanning (Elena).*

*Diagnosis: Pancreatic Adenocarcinoma. Stage IV. Metastatic.*

*Prognosis: Terminal.*

The paper shook in my hands. Cancer. She was dying. She had been dying this whole time. And yet, she had given the last drops of her life to save the woman who took her place.

"Matteo?"

Dante's voice came from the doorway. Instinct took over; I shoved the file behind my back. He stood there, looking exhausted but relieved.

"The doctor says Sofia is stabilizing," Dante said. "The transfusion worked."

He looked past me at the figure on the gurney. The nurse had pulled a sheet up, covering Elena's face.

"Is she done?" Dante asked.

He didn't ask how she was. He asked if the transaction was complete.

I looked at the sheet. Underneath it lay the girl we had grown up with. The girl who used to chase fireflies in the garden. The girl who had just sacrificed everything for a man who hated her.

If I told him now... if I told him he had just ordered the execution of a terminally ill woman who loved him... it would break him. And we had a war to win. We had a family to run.

"Yes, Boss," I said, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears. "She's done. She's just... resting. The sedative knocked her out."

Dante nodded, already turning away. "Good. Pay her double. Make sure she's on a plane tomorrow. I don't want to see her at the wedding."

He walked out.

I waited until his footsteps faded down the corridor. Then I turned back to the doctor.

"Process the death certificate," I whispered. "Cause of death: Cardiac arrest due to complications from... just put cardiac arrest. And keep this file closed. No one sees it. No one."

I pulled the sheet back down. Elena's face was peaceful for the first time in years. I reached into the pocket of her discarded jeans on the chair. I found a crumpled brochure.

*Aspen Sky Sanctuary. Return to the wind.*

I closed my eyes. I will take you, Elena. I will take you to your mountain.