The Call That Changes Everything

Three days had passed in a blur. Alina barely remembered the last time she had slept properly. The hospital had become her world: monitors, databases, endless calls. Every lead for a donor ended in disappointment.

Back in Dr. Philip Evert’s office, the three of them huddled over a cluttered desk. Alina stared at the stacks of papers, her mind spinning. Adam stood nearby, phone in hand, updating contacts and checking donors. Philip leaned against the desk, scanning reports.

“We’ve checked every hospital, private bank, even overseas,” Dr. Philip said quietly. “Nothing usable yet. Finding a match will take time, there’s nothing available right away.”

Alina shook her head. “There has to be someone we haven’t thought of. Charlotte’s condition is worsening… and time is running out.”

Adam’s voice was calm but firm. “We’ve done everything we can. The donor has to be a perfect match. Her blood type is rare, and every day matters.”

Dr. Philip rubbed his forehead. “Even if we find someone, arranging it, testing, travel, transfusion will take time. We can’t speed this without risking her.”

Alina’s chest tightened. Every second felt like it slipped further away. “I know. I know.”

Dr. Philip leaned forward. “There’s one person. But… you’ll have to decide if you’re ready.”

Her heart skipped. She knew who he meant.

“Sebastian Vaughn. His blood type is a perfect match.”

Alina froze. Contact Sebastian?

“Dr. Philip… I can’t,” she whispered, voice trembling. “You know what happened. I don’t know if he’d even help…”

Adam placed a hand on her shoulder. “Alina, we don’t have time. Charlotte is not getting better. If there’s even a chance, we must try.”

Dr. Philip's tone softened. "You're not doing this alone. The child comes first."

Alina closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath. “Alright… I’ll contact him. But I don’t know how he’ll respond.”

A gentle knock echoed. Benjie and Claire entered, tired but alert.

“Updates,” Benjie said. “No viable donor. We’ve double-checked lists and private contacts. Nothing matches.”

Alina’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you. Keep me posted immediately.”

Claire muttered, piecing together overheard fragments. “Her… daughter? Is the patient Dr. Hart’s daughter? Is that why they're so desperate?"

Suddenly, Alina’s phone rang. Regina’s trembling voice came through.

“Alina… Charlotte’s getting weaker. Her fever isn’t going down. Maybe… maybe it’s time.” Regina said, voice breaking.

Alina gripped the desk. “Time for what?”

“To… contact him. The one who might help.”

Her stomach dropped. She had tried everything. This was the last option.

“I don’t have a choice,” she whispered. “I’ve tried everything else.”

"I know," Regina said softly. "But Charlotte... she can't wait much longer."

Alina nodded, jaw tight. "I'll do it. I'll make the call. But I need a moment to... prepare."

Adam and Philip exchanged a tense look. Three days of dead ends had brought them here.

Alina’s hands tightened into fists. “If Sebastian can help… this might be our only chance.”

Adam nodded. “It’s risky, but we have no other choice. We need the match."

Dr. Philip added. "It's not about the past anymore. It's about saving your daughter's life."

Alina closed her eyes. The past she’d tried to leave behind was now her only hope. She exhaled. “Alright. I’ll contact him tonight. Whatever it takes.”

Adam’s hand steadied hers. “We’ll be with you.”

Dr. Philip nodded. “Do what you must.”

Alina straightened, bracing herself. This was the point of no return. The search had pushed them to the edge, and now she had to reach out to someone she never wanted involved.

Back in her hotel room, she sank into the desk chair. The room was quiet, but her mind was a storm. City lights flickered outside as she thought no donor leads, Charlotte getting weaker, every option slipping away.

Her hands hovered over the phone. Three days of searching had led to nothing. Every database checked, every call made, every potential match, dead ends. Helplessness pressed on her chest.

She looked at Charlotte’s photo on her phone. Her daughter’s bright smile made her chest tighten, filling her with fear and determination. Leaning on the desk, Alina knew she had no choice, one last desperate move remained.

Her fingers hovered over the phone. There was one person she could try before anyone else, John. Taking a deep breath, she dialed his number.

It rang once. A calm, familiar voice answered.

"Dr. Hart," John said, as if he had been expecting her call.

“John… where is he? Can you arrange a meeting tonight?”

A pause. "I can check his schedule. Give me a moment."

Unknown to Alina, John stood in Sebastian’s office, phone muted. “Sir, Dr. Hart is on the line. She wants to meet you tonight. It seems important, but I don't have details yet."

Sebastian looked up, unreadable. “Arrange it. Make it happen.”

John unmuted the call. “He can see you tonight. Sterling rooftop restaurant. 8 p.m. sharp.”

Alina’s chest tightened. “Rooftop? Tonight? Perfect. Thank you, John.”

"You're welcome. He'll be there at 8 p.m. sharp. Arrive a few minutes early," he instructed, ending the call.

"I will," She exhaled slowly, tension easing slightly, but fear and hope churned in her mind. Tonight, she would meet him. Whatever it took, she would save her daughter.

Meanwhile, in Sebastian’s office, John watched her number disappear. “Meeting set. 8 p.m. rooftop.”

Sebastian leaned back, fingers steepled. Calm on the outside, a spark of curiosity flickered inside. Alina Hart, after all these years, reaching out. Why now? Why so desperate?

“She sounded… serious,” John added quietly.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. Desperate or strategic? And that blood type… If it is what I think. He weighed risks, leverage, outcomes. Lights of Atheria spread below like scattered stars. A rare pause. A moment to consider the layers. Alina Hart, brilliant, determined, infuriatingly persistent was stepping back into a world she once left. And now, she needed him.

A slow, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips. Everything has consequences. Tonight, I’ll see how far she’ll go.

Unbeknownst to him, the meeting would bring a surprise unlike anything in his thirty-plus years. How he'd respond was unknown, even to himself.