The Billionaire's Blood Debt

The rain hadn’t let up since morning. A slow, stubborn drizzle soaked the city of Boston and each time Zaria Monroe looked outside the windows of St. Asella’s General Hospital, the sidewalks had turned into darker shades of gray. 

She moved quietly through the east wig, her ID badge bouncing lightly against her chest with each step.  Zaria’s sneakers squeaked faintly against the linoleum floor as she pushed a mobile vitals cart from one room to the next. 

“Zaria, can you check Room 209 when you’re done there?” a nurse, Diana, called from the station. 

Zaria nodded before the question was even finished. “On it”, she replied with a smile. She was always on it. Always available. 

But first, she had to stop at Room 207, occupied by an elderly woman who was recuperating very well from a bad bout of pneumonia. Zaria offered her a warm smile before gently checking her vitals and asking the standard questions. 

When she was done, she updated the chart and wheeled the cart into the hallway. Her shoulders were already aching but Zaria wasn’t ready to call it a day yet. If anything, she felt compelled to stay longer. 

Back at the nurse’s station, she stopped to have a chat with Diana. . 

“Didn’t your shift end half an hour ago?” Diana asked. 

Zaria wiped her hands with some sanitizer. “Yeah, they were short today. Figured I’d stay a bit longer.”

Her friend gave her a look. “Girl, they’re always short. Love your work ethic but you need to take a break.”

But Zaria shrugged, choosing to ignore the truth in the words being said to her. It might look like she was overdoing it but Zaria genuinely enjoyed helping people. She grabbed a clipboard and turned back towards Room 209, knocking lightly before stepping into the room. The curtains were half drawn and the window was fogged from the rain. Mr Delaney sat upright on his bed. There was something about him that reminded Zaria of a crow. Maybe it was because of how sharp-eyed and observant he was. 

“Afternoon, Mr Delaney”, she greeted him politely. 

In typical fashion, he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared outside with narrowed eyes. When he did turn, he asked her, “You hear about the explosion?”

“Explosion?”

“Gas leak. Downtown.” 

“No”, she said slowly. “I hadn’t heard. When did this happen?

“Not too long ago. Saw it on the news. Big one. Lots of smoke”, he replied. 

Zaria opened her mouth to respond but before she could, the door swung open with a thud. It was Diana, her eyes wide open and her voice struggling to come out.

“Zaria! We need you downstairs. Now!” she said urgently. “There’s been an explosion downtown and the ER’s filling up fast. All hands on deck!”

Diana had already turned and was down the hallway when Zaria caught up with her.

“Do we know how many?” she asked.

“Dozens already. Burns, blunt trauma, smoke inhalation. We’ve got incoming from three different fire districts. We’re setting up overflow stations.”

The sterile quiet of the hospital had vanished, replaced by rising voices and clipped tones of incoming dispatch calls. 

Zaria had stepped into a living nightmare. Inside was pure chaos. Voices clashed with sirens while doctors and nurses shouted out vitals over each other. For a moment, she froze, caught by the sights and sounds of noise and pain. 

In the midst of her daze, her mentor, Dr. Kareem spotted her. 

“Zaria! Bay 3! Now!” he barked at her. 

Bay 3 was already swarmed with too many bodies, some moving, some very still. Where would she even begin? But just then she spotted a man on a gurney in the back of the room. Deep gashes on his arms, blood slick and pooling beneath him. Shards of what looked like glass glittered in his hair. 

She rushed to his side over the voice of a paramedic who had spotted her. 

“What’s his name?” she asked. 

But the paramedic had disappeared into the chaos. Zaria grabbed a mask and checked his breathing. Shallow. His chest barely lifted.

“Doctor!” she called out, spinning around. “I need a doctor!”

You’ve done this in training. You know what to do.

Grabbing an Ambu bag from the emergency kit nearby, Zaria placed the mask over the man’s face and began pumping. She focused on the mechanics like she’d done a thousand times before. She was trained for this. Even if her hands were shaking. One…two…three…steady breaths. 

Come on…come on.

But she could feel his body failing on her and Zaria felt hot tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Then suddenly, a heat bloomed in her chest. At first, she thought it was adrenaline. But it wasn’t. It burst through her chest like she’d been punctured. Her breath hitched. 

And then–emotion.

Suddenly, she felt him. Panic. Anguish. Fear. Loss. Zaria suppressed the urge to scream and she felt her knees buckling. She gasped, her grip on the bag faltering for a second before she steadied herself and pressed on. 

Then she saw it. 

His wounds were moving. 

Not bleeding. Mending.

Her hand froze mid-compression. The gash along his arm that was deep enough to expose bone was closing. This was happening right there in front of her! 

This isn’t possible.

The man opened his eyes and he stared straight at her, as though he was peering into her soul. Like she had opened some door for him to see into her life. 

“Your eyes…”

And then he slipped back into unconsciousness. 

“Zaria!” Dr. Kareem yelled from behind. “I’ve got him now!”

She stumbled, letting her mentor take over. She watched, frozen in place, as she tried to comprehend what it was she had just witnessed. 

But no one else had seen it.

Only her. 

And she had no idea what it meant.