The nurse's voice was sharp with urgency. "The patient has a ruptured liver. She requires an immediate transfusion of AB type blood."

She continued, "The blood bank just informed us they don't have the necessary quantity. Family members would be ideal donors. Alternatively, we need to find anyone with AB blood to come forward immediately."

"We've already alerted our superiors. They are coordinating with major hospitals for a supply transfer."

Her tone grew more grave. "However, the patient's condition is critical. Time is of the essence."

Nancy felt the world tilt. Her mind went blank with sheer terror.

If Elizabeth didn't make it...

"We'll call for donors right now," Samuel declared, fighting to keep his voice steady. His hands trembled as he pulled out his phone.

"I'll contact William. He can mobilize everyone at the company with AB blood." Ethan stood rigid nearby, his entire body tense with suppressed emotion. His own blood type was AB, but he was barred from donating to Elizabeth. Meanwhile, after Samuel's call to William, he turned back to Nancy.

"William is arranging it immediately. The donors will be here soon..."

A sudden, bewildering thought struck Nancy.

She stared at Samuel, her expression clouded with confusion. "Darling," she asked hesitantly, "what is your blood type?"

"A," Samuel answered without pause.

So Nancy hadn't misremembered. Her husband's blood type was A. Hers was also A.

How then could their daughter possibly have AB blood?

The same horrifying realization dawned on Samuel simultaneously! Their eyes locked in shared, dawning horror. Nancy swiftly hurried to the nurse's station.

"Nurse, please consult the doctors. There must be a mistake with Elizabeth's blood type. Both my husband and I are type A. It's genetically impossible for our daughter to be AB."

"Understood," the nurse responded promptly and relayed the message inside.

The response came back swift and unequivocal: Elizabeth's blood type was definitively AB.

It was a thunderbolt from a clear sky. The revelation left them all utterly stunned, frozen in place.

The unthinkable implication hung in the air—if Elizabeth wasn't their biological daughter...

No! It couldn't be! She looked so much like Samuel! The silence in the corridor became oppressive, thick with shock. But soon, the sound of frantic, approaching footsteps broke the stillness.

Everyone turned to see a distraught middle-aged woman rushing towards them. "Is Cora here? What's happened to my Cora?" she cried out.

It was the mother of the stunt double—the families of all injured parties had been notified after the accident.

Yet, her initial panic subsided into a frozen stillness as she registered Samuel and Nancy staring intently at her. She looked from one to the other, and her gaze suddenly became shifty, evasive.

"Clara Bennett?" Nancy ventured the name tentatively—it had been over twenty years since they'd last met.

It seemed to jog Clara's memory. She offered a nervous, belated greeting. "Mr. Mitchell. Ms. Levine."

"What are you doing here?" Nancy demanded, her voice sharp.

"M-My daughter was injured on set. I came to see her," Clara stammered, her nerves evident.

"So your daughter is the one who fell on top of mine? My daughter's life is hanging by a thread because of it," Nancy snapped, her anger flaring.

"Wait, what happened to Ms. Mitchell? Is it serious?" Clara's agitation seemed to explode. She lost all composure, her reaction far too extreme, too telling.

Nancy's eyes narrowed, fixed on her with laser focus. Seeming to realize her mistake, Clara quickly turned away, addressing the nurse in a blatant attempt to divert attention.

"Nurse, how is my daughter?" But even as she asked...