Chapter 87: Backup Plan.

In the moment heavy with pain and tears, Dua's mind ignited with the backup plan she'd crafted in case things fell apart. She raised her head and turned to Shane, whose eyes were downcast, glistening with tears.

"Shane, did you prepare for resuscitation like I told you to?" she asked, her voice trembling yet resolute.

"Now isn't the time for senseless talks," he replied, desperation marring his features.

"It's not senseless!" she insisted, her tone urgent.

"You've done enough, Dua. Let's put an end to this," he shot back, the anger barely concealing his fear.

"This isn't the end yet. We haven't tried one last thing," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.

"And how sure are you that it'll work?" he asked, finally meeting her gaze.

"I don’t know," she confessed, her voice dropping to a whisper. Shane looked away, his disinterest evident.

"But what if it works? We won’t know unless we try," she pressed, trying to pierce through his reluctance.

"Please, just let this be the end," he pleaded, his voice wavering.

"Just one last option, please," she begged, desperation edging her tone. She searched his eyes for support, but all she found was silence.

Regardless of his hesitation, she resolved to carry out her plan. With trembling hands, she picked up the cup from the nightstand, gripped a knife, and cut her wrist, letting her blood spill into the cup.

"Dua!" Shane shouted in horror, snatching the cup from her grasp. "Why would you hurt yourself?" He instinctively reached for her, but she stepped back, her eyes fierce.

"The remedy states there must be a life transaction to break the curse, a life for a life... The moment I drop dead, you drink a portion of my blood and feed the rest to Steven," she explained, her tone unwavering even as her body faltered.

"Absolutely not," Shane scoffed. "I won’t do something that insane."

"Yes, you will," Dua replied, raising the knife to her neck with determination. Before Shane could react, she sliced her vital point, collapsing onto the bed beside Steven's lifeless body, blood pouring from her wound profusely.

“DUA!!!” Shane yelled in panic, his voice echoing off the walls, desperation clawing at his throat.

“Hurry... get ready... it’s almost time...” Dua whispered weakly, her breath shallow and shaky. Tears streamed down her face as she clasped Steven’s hand tightly. “I’m sorry... I love you,” she murmured, her words barely making it out before she slipped into darkness. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her breathing ceased, leaving a haunting silence in the room.

Torn and confused, Shane stood frozen, his mind racing. He recalled Dua’s earlier instructions and picked up the cup containing her blood. With trembling hands, he took a gulp himself before tilting Steven’s head back, forcing the remainder down his throat.

Rushing back to Dua, Shane’s heart pounded as he weighed his options. He must resuscitate her but also stop the bleeding. “Fuck! Dua,” he cursed under his breath, yanking the bedsheets and pressing them tightly against the gash on her neck, trying to staunch the flow of red.

With an earnest prayer clawing at the back of his mind, he began CPR, rhythmic compressions against her fragile chest. "Dua, please come back," he urged, his voice strained. He paused to give two breaths into her mouth, feeling the faintest hint of warmth from her body. But as he began another round of compressions, despair began to choke him.

After three desperate sessions, he finally saw movement, a flicker of her finger. “Yes!” He leaned closer, his heart leaping as he heard her faint breaths. Relief washed over him, but as he darted out to fetch the first aid kit, a gasp pulled him back.

Steven was alive. His body jerked awake, confusion muddling his features. “What… happened?” he croaked, his voice raw but undeniably alive.

“Dua… she… she tried to save you,” Shane whispered, a wave of fresh panic rising in his chest. He turned to look at Dua, the scene before him twisting into something monstrous, the blood, the stillness, the desperate urgency of the moment.

“Dua!” Steven’s voice quaked as he caught sight of her. He surged to her side, pulling her close, holding her as if he could will her back to him. "Hold on, Dua. Please, just a little longer."

Soon Shane returned with the first aid kit and set it on the bedside drawer, a look of concern etched on his face. "Why didn't you stop her?!" Steven shot at him, the frustration lacing his voice.

"You know Dua more than I do," Shane replied, resolutely pulling out supplies from the kit.

Steven's gaze shifted back to Dua, his heart aching at the sight of her. Tears threatened to spill as he whispered, "Why do you never listen?"

"Let’s take her to the hospital," Steven urged, desperation creeping into his voice.

"Not now. Not in this state," Shane interjected, urgency in his tone. "She won't make it to the hospital if we move her right now."

"Let me suture her up first. I may not be an expert, but I’ll do my best," Shane added, taking a deep breath before getting to work on her injuries.

As he carefully stitched the cut on her neck, Steven rolled up Dua's sleeves to reveal the raw, angry wounds on her wrists, marks of her silent struggle. A wave of guilt washed over him, each cut a painful reminder of the depths of her suffering. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, his heart heavy.

Once Shane finished his work, Steven cradled Dua gently in his arms, urgency propelling him to his car. Shane took the wheel, driving them at breakneck speed to the hospital. In the tension of the moment, Steven called his doctor, asking him to be on standby.

Upon their arrival, Steven's doctor was already waiting, flanked by two other doctors, several nurses, and a stretcher. They swiftly lifted Dua onto the stretcher and wheeled her into the Emergency Department.

"She was involved in a serious home accident and has lost a significant amount of blood," Shane explained, his voice trembling with adrenaline as the doctors began their assessment.

"I’ll give her my blood," Steven blurted out, desperation overriding his reasoning.

His doctor turned to him with a frown. "You’re not in a condition to do that. Remember your health issues?"

"I'm fine!" Steven protested, frustration flooding him.

"You know the doctor is right," Shane said, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Really, I'm okay," Steven insisted, but his doctor shook his head.

"You have a hole in your heart, Mr. Levi, and you smoke, too," the doctor reminded Steven, reminding him of his medical history with a serious expression.

"I'm sorry, but you can't donate your blood to your wife," the doctor continued, his voice firm yet compassionate. Steven felt a surge of frustration and helplessness crash over him. How could he not help Dua when she needed him most?

The doctor continued, "We'll run a blood test on her so we can determine what’s needed for her treatment..."

"She's group A+, Genotype AS," Steven interrupted, his voice sharper than he intended. The room fell silent for a brief moment as everyone turned to him, surprised.

"How do you know that?" Shane asked, arching an eyebrow in disbelief.

"She's my wife. How could I not know?" Steven replied, his tone softening slightly, though the worry etched on his face remained.

Shane smiled proudly, his heart swelling with admiration for his younger brother. It was moments like these that showed how much Steven had matured.

"Mr. Levi," another doctor who was attending to Dua turned to Steven. "Thankfully, your babies are safe," she said, her words hanging in the air like a gentle promise.

"Babies?" Steven and Shane echoed in unison, their voices a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"Yes," the doctor confirmed with a warm smile. "Your wife is expecting twins."

In that brief moment, Steven felt a flicker of hope pierce through the cloud of despair that had enveloped him since they arrived. For now, his focus shifted from his own helplessness to the miraculous lives growing within Dua.

"We need to take her to the ward and prepare her for a blood transfusion," his doctor informed them, outlining the next steps with a calm authority.

As they wheeled Dua away, Steven's heart filled with determination. He may not be able to save her with his own blood, but he would fight with every ounce of strength he had to ensure that she and their babies came through this safely.