Chapter 2 - The Stolen Bloodline
Viral Title: THE BAREFOOT GIRL WAS BLEEDING—WHEN THE BILLIONAIRE SAW HER BLOOD TEST, HIS WHOLE WORLD CRUMBLED!The Westfield Academy infirmary smelled heavily of antiseptic. Lily lay on the white cot, her foot neatly bandaged, though her face was pale. She was quietly eating the second sandwich Maxwell had given her.
Richard Wilson stood in the corner, his phone pressed to his ear, his voice a harsh whisper. "I don't care about the liability, headmaster. She is a distraction. My son could have broken his experimental implants! I want her transferred out of this school by tomorrow."
Maxwell sat on a chair next to Lily, tears streaming down his face. "Dad, stop! It wasn't her fault! She helped me run! I ran, Dad! Didn't you see?"
Richard paused, looking at his son. He had seen it. It was a medical impossibility based on their current software data. But Richard was too terrified of losing his son to see the miracle. "It was an accident waiting to happen, Maxwell. She has no shoes. She has no supervision. She doesn't belong here."
Just then, the school nurse, Mrs. Vance, walked in, holding a digital medical tablet. She looked completely bewildered, her hands shaking slightly.
"Mr. Wilson... a word outside, please," she murmured.
Richard rolled his eyes, stepping into the hallway. "If this is about paying for her medical bills, just send it to my accounting department. I'll cover the stitches if it means she leaves."
"It's not about the bills, sir," Mrs. Vance said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "When we cleaned the wound, we had to run a rapid blood panel to check for infections from the rusty concrete. The system automatically cross-references the school’s emergency database for blood-type compatibility in case a transfusion is needed."
"And?" Richard snapped, checking his watch.
"Lily Carter’s blood type is an extremely rare phenotype—Bombay Blood, $O_h$. It’s a genetic anomaly. There are fewer than ten people in the entire state of California who carry it."
Richard’s heart skipped a beat. A cold sweat broke out across his neck. Bombay Blood.
"My... my late wife, Jennifer, had Bombay Blood," Richard whispered, his voice suddenly losing all its authority. "That's why we had to keep a private blood bank for her."
"Yes, sir," Mrs. Vance said, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. "But that's not all. Because your family has a premium medical profile linked to Westfield's emergency network, the system automatically ran a familial DNA marker match. It flagged an 99.9% maternal match."
Richard grabbed the nurse’s shoulder, his grip so tight she gasped. "What are you saying?"
"Lily Carter is not a stranger, Mr. Wilson. According to the genetic markers... she is the biological daughter of Jennifer Wilson."
The hallway seemed to spin. Richard felt like the ground had been ripped from beneath his feet. Jennifer’s daughter? It was impossible. Jennifer had only given birth once—to Maxwell. They had never had a daughter.
Unless...
Richard’s mind flashed back to seven years ago. A high-risk pregnancy. A chaotic night at a private clinic in Switzerland. The doctors had told them their twin daughter was stillborn. Jennifer had wept for months, a grief that never truly healed until Maxwell grew older.
They had been told she was dead.
Richard slammed the door to the infirmary open. He marched straight to Lily, staring at her face. Now that he knew, he could see it. The shape of her jaw. The unique, deep brown color of her eyes. The way her hair curled perfectly at the temples. She was the spitting image of his late wife.
"Who is your grandmother?" Richard demanded, his voice cracking. "What is her name?!"
Lily shrank back into the cot, frightened by his sudden intensity. Maxwell stood up, shielding her. "Dad, stop it! You're scrying her!"
"Tell me her name, Lily!" Richard yelled.
Before Lily could answer, the infirmary door opened again. A woman walked in. She was dressed in a worn-out janitor's uniform from the corporate building across the street. Her hands were calloused, her face lined with age and exhaustion.
When her eyes met Richard’s, she froze. The bucket she was holding dropped, soapy water spilling across the floor.
"You..." Richard whispered, recognizing her instantly.
May you like
It was Dr. Evelyn Harris. The chief embryologist who had delivered Maxwell and his supposed "stillborn" twin sister seven years ago in Switzerland.
The Hook: Dr. Harris took one look at Richard, grabbed Lily by the arm, and screamed to the school security, "Keep him away from her! He already destroyed her mother—he won't take her too!"
