Chapter 3

The fall I turned six, I was wheeled into a proper blood collection room for the first time.

I’d lived through this scene before. I could have recreated every detail with my eyes closed.

But this time was different.

Because I’d done something in advance.

“Hannah, we’re going to take two tubes of blood today. Can you be a good girl for me?” The nurse crouched down and wiped the inside of my elbow with alcohol.

“Ma’am.” I looked at her. “My last checkup said I was anemic. The doctor said I shouldn’t give blood.”

The nurse paused and flipped through the papers in her hand. “It doesn’t say that here…”

“Didn’t my mom tell you?” I rolled my sleeve up, exposing the bruised veins inside my arm. “I’ve been taking iron pills since last year.”

The nurse frowned.

She stood and went to the door. “Mrs. Bennett, your daughter says she has anemia. I’ll need to run a complete blood count first.”

Evelyn’s voice came from outside, edged with impatience. “She’s making things up. She’s perfectly healthy.”

“But under our guidelines, we can’t collect blood from a donor who may be anemic.” The nurse’s tone was professional. “We need to check her hemoglobin first.”

A few seconds passed in silence.

Evelyn opened the door and looked at me.

Her gaze was a knife.

“Hannah.” She crouched beside me and lowered her voice so only I could hear. “Tell the nice nurse you’re not anemic, okay? Mommy needs that blood.”

I shook my head.

“I’m dizzy,” I said, just loudly enough for the nurse to hear. “Mommy, I’ve been dizzy for days.”

The nurse came over at once. “Dizzy? When did that start?”

“Last month,” I said. “My kindergarten teacher knows too. I fainted on the playground.”

That was true. I really had fainted when I was six in my previous life. But Evelyn had told the school it was low blood sugar and taken me for another blood draw the very next day.

The nurse’s expression changed. She turned to Evelyn. “Mrs. Bennett, I recommend a full examination first. If she is anemic, taking blood could be dangerous.”

Evelyn looked furious.

But she couldn’t lose her temper in front of the nurse.

“All right.” She stood, her voice returning to its polished gentleness. “We’ll do the tests first. Hannah’s health comes before anything.”

She was smiling as she said it.

But when she led me out of the room, her fingers nearly crushed my wrist.

“Hannah Bennett.” The hallway was empty. She stopped and crouched in front of me, every trace of her smile gone. “Are you trying to defy me?”

I looked at her.

Her face was almost twenty years younger, but the coldness in her eyes was exactly the same.

“Mommy, I really am dizzy.”

“You never used to complain about being dizzy.”

The old me had never dared.

“The doctor said anemia can make you dizzy.” I lowered my head, pretending to be frightened. “Mommy, am I going to die?”

For a moment, her expression shifted.

Not with concern. With calculation.

She was calculating whether a serious health problem would cut off her blood supply.

“You’re not going to die,” she finally said, standing. “Mommy will take you for some tests.”

The results came back that afternoon.

My hemoglobin was 8.9, below normal. Mild anemia.

As the doctor handed Evelyn the report, he said, “This child isn’t fit to give blood frequently. She needs at least three months to recover and bring her levels back up.”

Three months.

In my last life, I’d never been given three months to breathe.

Evelyn accepted the report with a textbook maternal smile. “Of course, Doctor. I’ll be careful.”

Outside the hospital, she folded the report twice and stuffed it into her purse.

“Hannah.” Her voice was quiet, almost as if she were talking to herself. “You’re getting more disobedient by the day.”

I said nothing.

When we got home, Lily was watching cartoons in the living room. She didn’t even look up.

Richard came out of his study. “How did it go? Did they take the blood?”

“No.” Evelyn threw her purse onto the couch. “Hannah’s anemic. The doctor says she needs to recover.”

Richard frowned. “Then what about your condition…”

“I’ll figure something out.” Evelyn glanced at me, then at Lily in front of the television. Her gaze lingered for two seconds.

I knew what she was thinking.

She was thinking about Lily.

Lily’s blood was a match too. If I couldn’t be used, there was still Lily.

But she didn’t want to use Lily.

Why?

In my last life, I’d died without understanding that. Two daughters, the same blood type. Why had she only ever used me?

This time, I would find the answer.

“Mommy.” I tugged at the hem of her shirt. “Can Lily help you?”

Evelyn looked down at me, her lips curving.

That smile reminded me of the line she’d written on that note.

The only reason you exist.

“Hannah.” She gently stroked my head. “All you need to do is be good and get healthy. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”

That night, I heard Evelyn on the phone in her bedroom.

The door was shut, but the walls weren’t soundproof.

“…No. Lily is off-limits.”

“…I know, but that was our agreement. Richard only gave me one condition. Lily has to stay healthy.”

“…Hannah? Hannah doesn’t matter. She was always meant to be…”

Her voice dropped too low for me to hear the rest.

But I’d heard enough.

Richard’s condition. Lily had to be healthy. Hannah didn’t matter.

There had been a bargain in this family from the very beginning.

And I was the price.