Calden’s brain automatically worked out the horrifying mathematics.
Fifty-one transfusions meant Zarelle had given blood almost every other week for three straight years.
And he was the one who had summoned her to the hospital each time.
Calden gripped his phone so tightly his knuckles went white.
“Alpha, is there anything else?” Aldrin waited patiently for his next instruction.
His voice jolted Calden back to the present moment.
“Nothing. That’s all.”
He hung up without really knowing what he was doing, his mind reeling from the revelation.
18,450 milliliters.
That staggering number kept flashing in his mind like an accusatory neon sign.
He had been injured before in military service where Kelson almost died, and had also witnessed other people get hurt and
