My Blood Isn’t for Sale, Boss
Language: en
Last year, my 400ml donation of O-negative blood saved my boss’s only son. By the hospital bed, Mrs. Thompson didn’t even glance up. “Consider yourself honored to have saved my son.” The entire family crowded around the boy, celebrating. Meanwhile, I collapsed in the hallway from anemia—yet not a single word of concern came my way. A year later, in the dead of night, my phone lit up with 78 missed calls. My boss’s voice boomed in the voicemail: “Liam needs blood urgently! You’re the only one who can save him!” I pressed the record button, then slowly replied: “Last time, I was a…