ETHAN POV
The kitchen light flicked on with a soft hum when I stepped in, pale and a little too bright compared to the dark hallway behind me, the tiles cold under my feet as I crossed the space and pulled the fridge open, the low mechanical buzz filling the quiet while cool air spilled out against my skin.
I reached past the usual stuff without looking—containers, leftovers, things I’d probably forget about later—and went straight for the back, fingers closing around the sealed bags I’d tucked away there earlier.
My blood.
The nurses had definitely thought I’d lost it when I asked them to draw it, store it, label it properly like it was some kind of long-term plan and not just me reacting to something I didn’t fully understand yet, but they’d done it anyway, probably because arguing w
