Twelve Years of Giving Now I Rest Novel

8



Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

Noel rushed over, pressing his hands over my wound, his face a mix of shock and panic.

Blood seeped through his fingers.

I muttered weakly, “Get away!”

He didn’t move, desperately trying to stem the flow and shouting loudly, “What are you standing there for? Call an ambulance!”

In the darkness, Noel’s deep voice echoed, “What right do you have to hurt yourself or to die? Do you think this will make me let you go? You have to live…”

I didn’t want to hear him. I drifted back into

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Chapter 8

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unconsciousness.

When I woke again, I heard Lydia’s father’s voice.

“She’s not listening now. What do we do? All our years of effort might be in vain. I only married her mother for my daughter’s sake.”

Another voice, a woman’s, sounded somewhat familiar.

It was Lydia’s biological mother. I remembered suddenly–she was a nurse.

“There’s a drug that can cause brain death while keeping the body functional and able to produce blood,” Lydia’s mother said. NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

she

“Then get it as soon as possible. That way won’t be able to run around, and our daughter

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will have enough blood for her whole life,” Lydia’s father said, his voice filled with urgency.

I was filled with dread, lying still, too afraid to move. Only when they left did I dare to open my

eyes.

What should I do? Call the police?

It’s pointless. I have no evidence.

Tell Noel and my mother?

Even more useless.

They wouldn’t believe me, and even if they did, they might not help. They don’t care about my well–being; they might even join Lydia’s biological parents in harming me.

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For Lydia, they would do anything.

I have to escape.

Leave here forever, as far away as possible.

I booked the next available train ticket on my phone.

After leaving the hospital, I hailed a cab straight to the station.

I was headed for Salt Lake City, a distant town- one of the farthest places from here.

At the station, I bumped into someone and, looking up, nearly fainted.

It was Noel.

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Chapter 8

My first instinct was to run.

He grabbed my arm, his voice cold.

“Where are you going?”

Despair consumed me in an instant.


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