Her Joke Cost Him Everything Chapter 01
Halfway to the hospital with the life–saving bone marrow, the pilot announced an emergency
turnaround.
Sloane, the “charity case” my childhood sweetheart had been sponsoring for years, lunged at the flight attendant with tear–filled eyes.
She screamed that the Bone Marrow Cryo–cooler in my arms wasn’t medical tissue at all, it was a
time bomb.
In an instant, I was shoved to the floor like a terrorist and been searched.
Remembering that my childhood sweetheart’s mother was waiting for a bone marrow transplant.
I fell to my knees on the spot. I signed over a dozen waivers.
Then, tearfully, I begged the pilot not to change the flight.
I made it. I delivered the marrow at the very last second.
His mother survived.
But on the day of her discharge, he dragged me to the hospital roof deck.
Jacob gripped my throat so hard I couldn’t breathe.
“Sloane was just acting. It was a joke. If you hadn’t filed that police report, she wouldn’t have gone to prison. She wouldn’t have killed herself!”
His mother watched, her eyes cold with hatred.
“It was just a bit of marrow,” she spat. “You drove that poor, sweet girl to her death over nothing!”
Then they both lunged, pushing me off the edge of the penthouse floor.
My body shattered against the pavement.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the cabin, right at the moment Sloane claimed there
was a bomb in my box.
This time, I’m done with my Hippocratic Oath.
After all, I’m not the one lying on an operating table waiting for an invasive transplant surgery.
“The box she’s holding! It’s not marrow! It’s a bomb!”
Sloane suddenly threw herself at the flight attendant, her eyes red, her voice trembling with
manufactured terror.
The entire cabin went dead silent.
I looked around, dazed. I’ve been reborn?
In my last life, I had begged the crew on my knees.
“It’s not a bomb!” I had screamed until my voice cracked.
“These are stem cells! It’s for a life–saving surgery! We have all the hospital permits and
paperwork! Please, do not turn this plane around!”
I traded my dignity and my life for the chance to save Jacob’s mother.
And the result?
Jacob and his mother hated and murdered me, tossing me off a twenty–story building.
This time, I’m not playing the martyr.
Sloane covered her mouth, looking like she was about to burst into tears.
“I heard her, she just said if this thing opens, we’re all dead.”
The flight attendant’s gaze snapped to me. The passengers around us descended into a frantic
panic.
I looked directly at Sloane.
“Are you willing to take legal responsibility for that statement? You know exactly what’s in here.”
She bit her lip and ducked behind Jacob, tears flowing instantly.
1
Jacob stood up, shielding in front of her.
“Carey, why are you yelling at her?”
As if I were the one causing a scene.
He pulled me aside, his voice a low, condescending hiss.
“She saw how stressed you were. She’s just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Besides, Sloane just wants to play. What’s the harm in playing along for a bit?”
I looked at Sloane’s pitiful face and let out a cold laugh.
She really did love to act.
It was a waste she wasn’t in Hollywood. Instead, she spent her time terrorizing the hospital.
When a patient had a simple stomach flu, she’d tell the family with a straight face, “It might be
terminal cancer. Better start planning the funeral.”
When a woman was in labor, she’d tell the frantic husband, “There were complications. Neither
made it.”
She even told a father during his kid’s check–up, mysteriously. “Your wife’s cheating. Neither of you has the blood type to produce this kid.”
When people broke down in tears, she’d burst out laughing.
“Oh my god, you guys are so sensitive! My acting is just too good.”
When the hospital finally received enough complaints to launch an investigation, she’d run to
Jacob, sobbing.
“I was just trying to help! I wanted to ease their tension with a joke.”
“How was I supposed to know they’d take it seriously?”
“Carey screamed at me in front of everyone like I committed a federal crime.”
She played the victim, and Jacob blamed me for being heartless.
Even today.
When we went to collect the marrow, the donor’s family was drowning in grief over their loss.
Sloane decided to put on a show.
“You should consider it a royal blessing that you’re donating your marrow to me.
The family was so insulted, they almost rescinded their consent on the spot.
I had to grovel, explaining the medical urgency and the professional protocol until my throat was
parched just to fix her mess.
The moment we walked out, Sloane cried that I had disrespected her.
I ignored her then.
But I never imagined she’d be insane enough to pull this stunt on a plane.
Seeing the chaos, a glint of triumph flashed in Sloane’s eyes.
She raised her voice, shouting over the panic.
“If you don’t open that box and diffuse the bomb right now, we’re all going to die!”
The flight attendant turned pale. “Ma’am, please hand over the box for inspection immediately!”
I adjusted the pin on my lapel and looked at Jacob. “You are the legal next–of–kin for the recipient. Are you sure you want to open this?”
Right now, Jacob’s mother was prepped for surgery, waiting for these cells to save her life.
But bone marrow stem cells are fragile.
Once the cryo–cooler is opened in a non–sterile environment, they die instantly. They become
trash.
Jacob glanced at me, his expression full of annoyance.
“Carey, can you just cooperate for once?”
“I’m sure.”
“Open it. It’s my call.”
The crew approached cautiously to assess the it.
Sloane couldn’t wait.
With a wicked, mischievous light in her eyes, she lunged forward and tore the lid off the box.
Jacob stood by, smiling dotingly at her.
He had no idea that he hadn’t just signed the death warrant for the box.
He had just killed his mother.
