Charlene was still in a wheelchair. Her eyes reddened as she felt the injustice of it all. “Brendan, you want me to donate my blood to Ms. McKinnon? You should know that I haven’t recovered yet…”

“When she was pregnant, she still donated her blood to you, didn’t she?” Brendan stopped Charlene from objecting. “She must not die! I’ll tell the nurse to be careful when taking your blood so she doesn’t hurt you.”

Brendan’s remark was akin to him telling Charlene that she couldn’t refuse.

Charlene