Chapter 19
Katherine jolted upright when her phone buzzed violently on the table, interrupting her meeting with the floor manager. Her heart jumped in her chest. She grabbed the phone, eyes scanning the caller to see an unknown number.
She rolled her eyes, dismissing the call—maybe it was spam. As she turned to apologize and continue, her phone buzzed again, making her groan.
She smiled sheepishly at the man and angrily swiped to answer. She opened her mouth to talk when a voice came in.
"Miss Prescott?" a panicked female voice spoke quickly, and Katherine raised her brows—the voice sounded familiar but she couldn't place where she had heard it. "This is Ms. Wunmi from Jasmine and Hannith's school. There's been an accident. Jasmine—she fell from the swing. There was blood. We've rushed her to the hospital—the Great Hospi—"
Katherine didn't wait to hear the rest as the phone slipped from her hand, hitting the floor with a crack. Her mind couldn't conjure words to say.
Everything inside her stilled as her breathing hitched and she felt the free air she had been breathing was seized.
Jasmine.
She snatched her bag and dashed out of the office, not bothering to address the man with her, as she rushed out of the hotel like a mad woman.
Her breathing was loud, matching the pounding of her heart that echoed in her ears. The ride to the hospital was a blur of honking cars, speeding tires, and desperate prayers. Her mind was in panic, each second the car slowed down at a bump felt like a thousand years had passed.
"Please be okay. Please be okay. Please don't take her away from me." Katherine continued chanting in her head as she gripped the seatbelt.
The moment the taxi stopped in front of the hospital, she yanked the door open before it fully parked and rushed straight into the building, not caring about the eyes staring at her. She didn't even realize she hadn't paid the fare.
The smell of antiseptic hit her nose as she entered the reception. Her eyes scanned the lobby, frantic. That's when she saw him.
Hannith.
Her baby boy was sitting quietly on one of the waiting chairs, shoulders hunched, hugging his small knees. A teacher stood beside him, nervously wringing her fingers.
"Hannith!" she breathed, crouching to his level, clutching him so tightly he whimpered.
"Mommy," he said in a small voice. "I'm okay… but Jasmine—" his lip quivered, "Jasmine fell and there was blood… so much blood." he cried.
"I'm here now, baby. It's not your fault," she whispered, wiping the corner of her eyes quickly. "Where is she?" Katherine's voice was hoarse as she looked up at the teacher.
"Inside." The teacher stood. "She was playing on the swing. Something went wrong… she slipped, hit her head badly… the metal scratched her back. She started bleeding and passed out before the nurse came."
Katherine nodded numbly, her lips moving but no sound coming out. She stood on shaking legs. A nurse appeared by her side and gestured silently. Then she turned back to Hannith, touching his cheek softly.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, "Stay with Miss Wunmi, okay? I'll be right back."
He nodded silently.
Katherine followed the nurse down the hallway, every step tightening the knot in her stomach. Her mind was screaming, but her mouth stayed shut. Her fingers gripped the strap of her bag so tightly, the leather might tear.
They stopped outside a door.
"She's inside," the nurse whispered. "The doctors are doing what they can."
Katherine nodded and stepped in with a heavy heart.
And there she was.
Jasmine.
There lay Jasmine—her baby. Her bright, wild, stubborn little girl lay unconscious on a hospital bed. A bandage wrapped around her forehead, her tiny leg was in a splint. Her usually happy face was pale, and her lips were slightly parted. Katherine's heart wrenched at the scene in front of her.
An IV drip hung beside her bed, wires attached to her chest as the monitors beeped steadily beside her. A doctor stood by the bed with a clipboard, murmuring instructions to a nurse.
Her poor, bright sunshine.
"M-my baby," she gasped and stumbled forward, grabbing the railing of the bed to hold herself up.
One of the doctors glanced at her and walked up to her.
"You're the guardian?"
"I'm her mother," Katherine said, her voice cracking.
The doctor stepped in. "We're doing our best. She's stable, but she's lost a significant amount of blood. Her blood pressure is very low. We're going to need to do a transfusion immediately."
"W-what?" Her legs buckled and she caught the side of the wall to stay standing.
"We need a donor urgently. Do you know her blood type?"
"I—yes, yes. She's O-negative."
"Good. Is there a donor?"
"I—I—" Katherine swayed.
The room spun around her. Jasmine's pale face blurred into white and the buzzing sound of machines turned to noise in her ears. She could barely hear the doctor's voice anymore.
"Katherine!" another voice shouted.
Strong arms caught her just before she hit the floor. Her body leaned against a solid chest, her fingers clinging instinctively to the fabric.
"Matthew," she breathed out like a prayer.
"I got the message," he said quickly, his voice firm but gentle. "You looked like you were about to faint. Breathe, Kat. I'm here now."
Katherine blinked at him, then looked past him to her daughter again. "She needs blood," she whispered in a trembling voice.
"I know," Matthew said. "We'll handle it. Let the doctor check me first, I'll donate."
Katherine nodded slowly, her chest heaving as the doctor gestured for a nurse and began prepping Matthew for blood sample.
Katherine paraded the room, looking at her baby as she prayed for good news. She really hoped Matthew's blood matched.
After a while Matthew came out, his eyes pale yet filled with concern as he held his bandaged arm. Katherine rushed to him, looking at him expectantly.
"I'm sorry—" he muttered and Katherine felt her world shatter as she slumped down against him, crying as her body shook with tears.
"Are you sure you are her biological mother?" the doctor asked, snapping her attention back.
"Yes! Yes, I am!"
"Good. We need to test your blood immediately—please come with me."
"I—I—"
"I'll stay with Jasmine," Matthew offered softly, urging her, but Katherine didn't move.
"I'm AB+," she choked out. Katherine felt like a shadow of her past self—helpless, useless. She wanted to curl up and disappear. She couldn't even do anything to help her child.
"Oh," the doctor uttered, then gestured to a nurse who walked closer.
"What about the baby's father?"
"Father?"
"Yes," the nurse nodded, "If the mother doesn't match then the father will. Your daughter's blood type is rare and can't receive from any other blood type. And there's currently no O-negative blood available," the nurse explained softly. "So we need the father— is the father not here?"
"The father—" she sniffed, quickly getting on her feet. "I'll get him. He's here."