Her Joke Cost Him Everything Chapter 02
The moment the lid was ripped off, my breath hitched.
It wasn’t because I mourned my wasted efforts.
It was the instinct of a doctor, the primal urge to prevent a life from slipping away.
Then, I remembered Jacob and his mother’s faces as they pushed me to my death. My heart turned
to stone.
As the lid fell back, a plume of frigid white mist swirled into the cabin air.
In that single second of exposure, the bone marrow cells died.
Before anyone could process it, Sloane’s scream ripped through the plane.
“Get down! It’s going to blow!”
The cabin descended into chaos.
Passengers dove for cover, clutching their heads, while others scrambled toward the back, shrieking at the flight attendants.
“Why would you open it? Are you insane?” Someone bellowed over the crying and cursing.
The cacophony was deafening, a sharp vibration against my eardrums.
I sat there, perfectly calm, feeling only a faint touch of regret for the others involved.
The girl who had selflessly donated her marrow, the coordinators who had fought through a dozen layers of red tape, the surgical team waiting with bated breath…
None of them knew that hope had just died at thirty thousand feet.
And the person responsible was currently hiding in the crowd, continuing her vile, amateur performance.
Sloane stood behind a row of seats, clutching Jacob’s sleeve like a terrified rabbit.
But I knew better. That trembling wasn’t fear.
It was adrenaline.
She lived for this. The center of attention, the puppeteer of everyone’s emotions. She was high on
the drama.
Seconds ticked by.
Nothing happened. No explosion, no fire, no smoke.
Only the neatly packed cooling materials inside the Bone Marrow Cryo–cooler, emitting a faint, lingering chill.
The cabin went silent for nearly a minute.
Heads slowly lifted from behind seats. The flight attendant, who had been bracing for impact, froze
in confusion.
A few brave passengers leaned in to inspect the box. Their faces contorted with sudden, sharp fury.
“It’s just a medical transport box.”
“There’s no bomb. There never was.”
“Was this some kind of sick joke?”
Right on cue, Sloane blinked, and a giggle bubbled out of her throat.
“Hahaha! Oh my god, I’m such a good actress! I totally had you guys fooled!”
She doubled over in laughter, the fake tears still wet on her cheeks.
She was radiant with pride, thrilled that her performance had worked so well.
But she failed to notice the look in the eyes of everyone on that plane.
It wasn’t admiration. It was pure, burning rage.
