Chapter 5

My mother kept backing away:

"No, my daughter is so small... She has so little blood. You can't take hers..."

My father's assistant carefully spoke up:

"Mr. Wallace, why don't I check other hospitals again? Maybe we can find another Rh-negative volunteer. The child really is too small."

"There's no time." The doctor urged, "Mr. Wallace, please make a decision quickly. Your wife's blood pressure is dropping."

At that moment, Henrichs's screams came from the delivery room, each one more agonizing than the last.

Several bodyguards suddenly restrained my mother, preventing her from moving.

My mother screamed, "Wallace, are you even human! She's only five years old!"

I was about to step forward to help when a bodyguard beside me kicked me mercilessly, sending me sprawling to the ground.

My father forcibly took little Manuela from my mother's arms. My mother struggled desperately:

"Wallace, let her go! She's only five! Taking her blood will kill her!"

From inside the room came the nurse's hesitant voice.

"Mr. Wallace, this child is too young. We can only draw 100 milliliters at most. Any more would be life-threatening."

My father said impatiently, "What good is 100 milliliters? Draw at least 200."

"But that really doesn't comply with regulations..."

My father's voice was cold as ice. "Draw it! If anything happens, I'll take responsibility!"

Soon, little Manuela's cries came from the room, each one weaker than the last.

My mother's heart was breaking, cold to the bone.

"Wallace, if anything happens to Manuela, I will never forgive you in this lifetime!"

But before long, Henrichs came out of the delivery room.

"Why is she crying so miserably? Didn't Wallace tell you that your daughter's purpose is to be my blood bank?"

She looked well, not at all like someone who had just given birth.

My mother looked at my father in disbelief.

Henrichs said magnanimously, "Let me tell you the truth. The car accident when you were seven months pregnant wasn't an accident. Wallace orchestrated it."

"If we hadn't later seen that your daughter's blood type matched mine and could serve as my mobile blood bank, your daughter might not have even been born."

"You should thank your daughter for being useful."

I knew about this too. My mother said she almost lost me, with no relatives by her side.

She stayed in the hospital alone for several days, immersed in dark terror.

So it was all orchestrated by my father. He never wanted me to be born at all.

Entering the room, my mother held little Manuela, her expression numb.

She suddenly said to me, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you."

My nose suddenly felt sour.

"It's okay. Everything can still be fixed."

While little Manuela was still receiving IV fluids, Henrichs actually had two bodies—one large, one small—brought from the morgue.

I knew she was warning my mother that if she didn't comply, she would end up like these two bodies.

My mother, trembling with rage, set fire to the entire ward and fled with us.

Meanwhile, Wallace had finally finished processing the paperwork for the new house and was about to have my mother sign when...

He saw thick smoke from the hospital's top floor!

His assistant suddenly rushed over in a panic. Wallace's heart skipped a beat.

"What's wrong?"

His assistant looked terrified:

"The ward where Miss Montoya was staying is on fire!"