The Prostitute and The Painter

"Contact the blood bank! Tell them we need every unit of AB-negative blood they have, right now!" Emergency room doors flew open as a pale, shaken doctor rushed into the corridor. "The patient is bleeding out. We have to start the transfusion immediately!"

Nurses hurried in different directions the moment they heard him.

"Doctor!" Bethany Palmer dragged herself toward him, barely able to move her injured legs through the pain. "My daughter is in there. Is she going to survive?"

"Your daughter has lost a dangerous amount of blood, and we could lose her at any moment." Then he noticed the terrible gash in Bethany's leg and saw that it went all the way to the bone. "You need treatment too. Where's your husband?"

Bethany's phone had grown warm in her tight grip after dozens of calls that had gone unanswered. Despair settled over her again as she replied, "He won't pick up."

The terrible accident had happened only an hour ago while Bethany and her daughter, Charlotte Stewart, were heading home from kindergarten.

Their driver had died instantly in the front seat, while Bethany and her daughter suffered severe injuries in the back.

Her husband, Brian Stewart, was the one person she desperately needed, yet he could not be reached during the worst crisis of their lives.

"Take a breath. We still have a good chance of saving her." The doctor spoke more gently after seeing how frightened she was. "AB-negative blood is rare, but the blood bank received a large shipment a few days ago, so we have more than enough. We've also called several of the best medical specialists in Slenale to help with the operation. Once your daughter receives the blood and those doctors get here, she should pull through."

Bethany finally managed to breathe a little easier.

She caught hold of the doctor's hand, and her voice shook as she pleaded, "Thank you. Please do whatever it takes to save her. My husband will make sure everyone who helps her is generously rewarded. He is Stewart Group's..."

"We've got a serious problem!" A nurse came hurrying back, struggling to catch her breath. "The blood bank says Brian Stewart took their entire supply of AB-negative blood. His secretary has anemia and started feeling dizzy, so he ordered them to send all of it to her."

The news struck Bethany so hard that she could barely think.

She had called Brian more than thirty times since the accident, and he had ignored every single call.

Somehow, he had still found the time to take all the blood that could save their daughter and give it to a secretary who was merely dizzy from anemia.

"Call Mr. Stewart again," the doctor ordered. "Tell him a child's life is at risk and we need that blood returned immediately."

The nurse shook her head and replied, "I already spoke to him. He said his secretary's life mattered just as much."

"Keep calling until he listens." Under his breath, the doctor muttered a curse before asking, "What about the specialists? How soon can they get here?"

The nurse went quiet before admitting, "They aren't coming. Mr. Stewart's people stopped them and redirected them to his secretary."

The hallway blurred around Bethany as darkness crept into the edges of her vision.

She braced herself against the wall and fought to remain standing. Her hands trembled while she found the number for Brian's secretary, Lexie White, and called her.

Lexie answered in her usual gentle voice. "Bethany? What's the matter?"