Farewell to Love: The CEO's Desperate Chase novel Chapter 30

Alden General Hospital.

Joyce paced anxiously in the waiting room, her nerves fraying with every passing minute.

Emilia had a rare blood type—Rh negative. Joyce remembered advising her, back when Emilia mentioned terminating the pregnancy, to arrange a blood donation first, just in case something happened. It hadn't been that long ago, and the hospital's blood bank hadn't had time to replenish its supply.

If Emilia needed a transfusion now…

Joyce and Emilia had known each other since they were kids. They'd been inseparable back then, always finding new ways to get into trouble together.

Joyce came from a family of doctors; she'd grown up surrounded by talk of medicine and remedies, absorbing bits and pieces even if she didn't always understand the details. Most of it was just words in a book or stories at the dinner table—until the day everything changed.

She remembered sneaking out with Emilia one summer afternoon. Joyce always craved a little excitement, and that day she'd swiped her brother's motorcycle for a joyride, with stunning Emilia clinging on behind her. The thrill of it all—the growl of the engine, the wind in their hair, the freedom—made her feel invincible.

She pushed her luck, speeding down back roads, until she lost control.

The bike skidded. Joyce got away with a few scrapes, but Emilia was thrown clear, landing hard on a rock. Blood pooled beneath her leg, the gash terrifyingly deep.

Panicked, Joyce called for an ambulance, her hands shaking as she tried to keep Emilia conscious. But they were far out in the countryside. Even with sirens blaring, it took precious minutes for help to arrive.

By the time they reached the hospital, Emilia had lost too much blood.

That was the first time Joyce truly understood what Emilia had meant by "panda blood"—a rare blood type, hard to match. The small-town hospital didn't have any in stock. Joyce watched helplessly as Emilia drifted toward shock, her skin pale, her breathing shallow.

She sobbed into the phone, begging her father to do something—anything—to save Emilia.

Somehow, they pulled through. Emilia survived, but the scar on her leg never fully faded, even after several rounds of cosmetic treatments. To ease Joyce's guilt, Emilia had taken her to a tattoo parlor. They each got matching tattoos over their scars—a symbol of their unbreakable bond.

It could be anything—workplace drama, personal vendettas, random misfortune. The possibilities seemed endless.

…

Inside the ER, Emilia drifted in and out of consciousness.

The world around her was a blur—indistinct shapes moving, machines beeping and humming, the cold touch of metal instruments against her skin.

She could hear voices, distant and muffled, like she was underwater.

Fragments of words reached her: "bleeding"… "pregnant"…

Nothing made sense. All she could do was cling to the hope that someone—anyone—would pull her through.