My Friend Faked Death, I Made Her Lose Everything Chapter 2

"Cough, cough... Cassidy, you finally made it..."

Veronica lay on the ground, covered in dirt, her body a canvas of green and purple bruises. Several deep gashes bled on her arms and legs.

"Cassidy, what are you waiting for...? Cough, cough, get me to a hospital..." Veronica whispered, her voice barely a thread as she lay feebly on the ground.

In my previous life, I'd rushed to find her after receiving her frantic call. Seeing her covered in blood, I panicked, desperate to call 911 for an ambulance. But Veronica insisted the location was too remote; she'd be dead by the time emergency services arrived. So, I personally carried her on my back, walking for over two hours back to the city to get her to a hospital.

But now, remembering it was all her twisted scheme, a wave of profound disgust washed over me.

"No need to call 911, it's too remote here... Just carry me..." Veronica coughed a few times, her eyes, wide and pleading, fixed on mine.

I feigned a grimace of discomfort, bending to massage my ankle. "I'm sorry, Veronica. I really want to carry you, but I just twisted my ankle. I simply can't." Fearing she wouldn't believe me, I even pulled up my pant leg to show her. My ankle was already visibly swollen and red. In my previous life, I had endured excruciating pain to carry her. By the time we reached the hospital, my ankle was practically mangled, and it took a fortune to fix. This time, I wouldn't be so foolish.

Veronica's face drained of color, making her look genuinely on the brink of collapse. Just then, an SUV pulled up beside us. The driver, a kind-faced man, asked if we needed help. To keep up appearances, I quickly smiled and accepted.

At the hospital, she was immediately rushed into the emergency room. Soon, a harried female doctor burst out, declaring Veronica had lost too much blood and needed a transfusion.

"The hospital's blood supply is critically low, and coordinating a transfer from another facility would take too long, jeopardizing her life," Dr. Evelyn Reed explained urgently. "Ms. Veronica mentioned you're a match. Come with me, we need your blood now."

A cold smile touched my lips at her words. The exact same line as before. This doctor, Dr. Reed, had used it as an excuse to strong-arm me into giving an unsafe amount of blood in my previous life. I'd been too overwhelmed to object then. Afterward, I was so weak and dizzy, the world spun. Veronica had seized the moment to beg me to care for her daughter, and in my dazed state, I'd simply nodded.

So, I turned to Dr. Reed and said, "I'm sorry, but I'm on my period right now and already feeling weak. I can't donate blood. You'll have to find another way."

Dr. Reed, clearly taken aback, stomped her foot in frustration before rushing back into the ER. Another twenty minutes passed. Dr. Reed emerged again, her face etched with a performative sorrow.

"My apologies, we did our best, but Ms. Veronica's condition was too critical. There was nothing more we could do." Her voice softened, dripping with false sympathy. "She's still conscious. You can go in and say your final goodbyes."

I nodded, my expression completely serene, and walked inside. Sure enough, Veronica lay on the hospital bed, as pale and weak as she had been in my previous life, her voice a mere whisper as she barely breathed my name. I walked to her bedside. "What do you want to tell me?"

Veronica's eyes welled with feigned tears. "Cassidy, you're my best friend. Why didn't you give me blood? If you had, maybe I would have..."

Dr. Reed chimed in, her voice dripping with righteous indignation. "Yes, Ms. Veronica truly thought of you as her best friend, yet you refused! Poor Ms. Veronica, so young, giving up too soon. You truly are heartless."

I replied, my voice flat, "Blame your hospital for not having basic supplies. How can you not have the blood a patient needs? If something happened to me because of an unsafe blood donation, would your hospital take responsibility?"