Lyra lay on the hospital bed, her whole body freezing.The soup Wesley had sent sat on the nightstand. Cold now. She reached for it, trying to sip, but her hands shook too hard to keep the spoon steady.Pain knifed through her lower stomach, sharp and relentless.She grit her teeth. "Doctor," she called, barely loud enough to hear.The door swung open. The doctor took one look at her color, lifted the blanket, and froze.The sheets were soaked through with blood."You're severely anemic," he said, voice tight. "This level of blood loss is dangerous—especially after donating so much. We need emergency surgery, now, or your life's at risk."She closed her eyes and nodded. "Okay."After a beat, she added quietly, "Don't tell Wesley."***Lyra lay on the cold operating table, her awareness slipping. It felt like being dragged back five years.The first time they met, Wesley had waited for her in the rain, eyes soft, full of warmth.At their wedding, he'd held her hand and promi
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