Killed And Reborn, I Found True Love

"Give the blood to Lisa instead."

Nyla's eyes flew open. She must have heard wrong. The pain in her chest was making everything sound strange and distorted. Surely her husband did not just say what she thought he said.

But Eric was standing right there by the door, his arm wrapped around Lisa's waist, and he was repeating the same words to the doctor like he was ordering coffee.

"My wife can have one unit. Give the other one to Lisa."

The doctor looked like someone had just slapped him across the face. "Sir, your wife needs both units to survive. If we only give her one, she will die within the hour."

"I understand." Eric's voice was so calm it made Nyla's skin crawl. "But Lisa was in the accident too. She needs blood as well."

Lisa let out a small sob and pressed her face against Eric's shoulder. "I feel so dizzy. Everything is spinning. Please, I think I am dying too."

Nyla wanted to scream. Lisa had a tiny scratch on her arm. One single scratch that was not even bleeding anymore. Meanwhile, Nyla could feel her own life draining out of her with every weak beat of her heart. Her insides were destroyed from the crash. The doctors had been shouting about internal bleeding and ruptured organs for the past two hours. She was the one dying here, not Lisa.

But Eric was looking at Lisa like she was the most precious thing in the world. Like his actual wife was not lying three feet away, choking on her own blood.

"Please," the doctor tried again. His voice was desperate now. "Your wife will not make it. Do you understand what I am telling you?"

"Then do your best with what you have," Eric said coldly.

The doctor stared at him for a long moment, his face twisted with disgust and disbelief. Then he turned away and started barking orders at the nurses. His hands were shaking.

Nyla's whole body had gone numb. Not from the pain anymore. From something much worse. She watched Eric stroke Lisa's hair, watched him whisper something in her ear that made Lisa nod and sigh. They looked like lovers. They looked like a couple who had been together for years.

How long had this been going on?

The question burned through Nyla's mind even as her vision started going dark at the edges. How long had her husband been sleeping with her best friend? How long had they been planning this?

Because this was planned. Nyla could see it clearly now, even through the fog of pain and shock. The car accident had not been random. She had been driving that same route home for three years without a single problem. But tonight, the brakes failed. Tonight, Lisa had insisted on riding with her even though she had her own car. Tonight, the hospital just happened to have a blood shortage.

Too many coincidences.

Nyla's heart was racing now, pounding so hard she thought it might explode. The machines around her started beeping faster and louder. A nurse rushed over and checked the monitors, then called out numbers that made everyone move quicker.

Through it all, Eric and Lisa just stood there in the doorway watching. They were not even pretending to be worried anymore.

"Mrs. Harper, stay with us." One of the doctors was leaning over her now, shining a light in her eyes. "Stay awake. We are going to help you."

But Nyla could barely hear him. All she could think about was Eric. Her husband. The man she had loved for five years, married for three. The man she had given everything to. Her money, her trust, her whole heart. She had believed every word he said, every promise he made. She had defended him to her family when they said he was only after her fortune. She had cut ties with her own father because Eric convinced her that her family did not really love her, that they just wanted to control her life.

And now he was killing her.

No, worse than that. He was standing right there watching her die, and he could save her with one word. One simple word. But he was choosing not to. He was choosing Lisa instead.

The betrayal hurt worse than any physical pain. It carved through Nyla's chest like a knife, sharp and brutal and unbearable.

"Blood pressure is dropping," someone shouted.

"We are losing her!"

Hands were pressing down on Nyla's chest. Someone was forcing air into her lungs. The world around her had become nothing but chaos and noise and blinding white light. But Nyla's eyes stayed fixed on that doorway. On Eric and Lisa.

Lisa lifted her head from Eric's shoulder. Their faces were very close together. Eric brushed a strand of hair away from Lisa's face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. Then Lisa said something too quiet for Nyla to hear. Whatever it was made Eric smile. Not a big smile. Just a small curve of his lips. But it was there.

He was smiling while his wife died.

And then Lisa turned her head. Just slightly. Just enough to look directly at Nyla through all the rushing doctors and nurses. Their eyes met across the chaos. For one brief, terrible moment, everything else fell away. It was just the two of them. Best friends since college. Sisters, or so Nyla had thought. The person she had trusted more than anyone in the world except Eric.

Lisa's face changed. The fake tears dried up. The frightened expression melted away. What replaced it was something cold and satisfied. Her lips curved into a smile. Not a kind smile. Not a sad smile. A victorious smile.

She looked like someone who had just won a game.

Nyla's heart stopped. Actually stopped. The machine beside her bed let out one long, continuous scream. Doctors were yelling. Someone was climbing onto the bed, getting ready to do chest compressions. But it was too late. Nyla could feel herself slipping away, feel the darkness rushing up to swallow her whole.

Her last thought before everything went black was not about the pain or the fear or even the betrayal.

It was rage.

Pure, burning rage at the two people who had destroyed her. At the husband who had married her for her money and then thrown her away like garbage. At the best friend who had smiled while she died.

If there was any justice in the universe, Nyla would come back. She would come back and make them both pay for what they had done. She would take everything from them, just like they had taken everything from her.

She would destroy them.

But as the flatline continued its endless scream and the doctors finally stopped trying to revive her, Nyla's body went still. Her eyes stared up at nothing. Her chest stopped moving.

Nyla Harper was dead.

In the doorway, Eric stepped back from the chaos and pulled out his phone. He turned slightly away from Lisa, his finger hovering over a contact name. Then he pressed call and lifted the phone to his ear.

After two rings, someone answered.

Eric's voice dropped to barely a whisper, but in the sudden quiet of the room now that the machines had stopped screaming, his words carried perfectly clear.

"It is done."