They returned to the main lobby.
Marcus thought they would go home.
Then the intercom called for O-negative donors.
The hospital's blood supply had already been strained by a major interstate collision earlier that afternoon.
Emma's surgical team had used emergency-release O-negative red cells while her blood type was confirmed.
She was also O negative.
The blood bank had enough inventory to begin treating her, but not enough comfortable reserve for a seven-year-old with ongoing internal bleeding who might need surgery through the evening.
Regional units were coming.
Weather and traffic meant delay.
The hospital activated an urgent donor appeal.
It did not mean somebody could walk in, give blood, and have it run straight into a child ten minutes later.
Every donation still required screening, testing, processing, and appropriate release.
But in a rapidly shrinking inventory, a qualified O-negative donor could matter.
Marcus knew that much.
He had donated regularly before Sarah became ill.
His donor card still sat behind his driver's license.
He took Lily downstairs.
The blood center was busier than usual.
Nurses.
Respiratory therapists.
Hospital employees.
A firefighter still wearing station trousers.
Most were being checked for blood type or eligibility.
Marcus approached reception.
"I'm O negative."
The coordinator looked up.
"Have you donated with our system before?"
"Not here."
He showed his old donor card.
"Last donation was about four years ago."
She nodded.
"We'll still need full screening."
"That's fine."
He looked down at Lily.
"I have my daughter."
A woman in purple scrubs nearby stepped forward.
"I'm the child-life coordinator. She can stay with us in the family room while you're screened if you're comfortable with that."
Lily tightened her grip.
Marcus crouched.
"You okay hanging out with Ms...?"
"Danielle."
"Ms. Danielle?"
Lily looked suspicious.
"Do they have crayons?"
Danielle smiled.
"An unreasonable amount."
Lily considered.
"Okay."
The medical screening took time.
Questionnaire.
Hemoglobin check.
Blood pressure.
Medication history.
Recent travel.
Prior illness.
Marcus answered honestly.
No fever.
No antibiotics.
No recent surgery.
No risky exposure.
No reason he knew he could not donate.
His hemoglobin was healthy.
Blood pressure normal.
The phlebotomist confirmed his type from rapid testing, while additional required testing would occur on the collected unit before clinical use.
The coordinator returned.
"You're eligible."
Marcus nodded.
"Do you know who needs it?"
She hesitated.
"Patient privacy means I can't discuss individual cases."
"Understood."
"But today's emergency appeal was activated because our O-negative stock is critically low."
"I figured."
She gestured toward the donor chair.
"A standard whole-blood donation is about one unit. We're not taking more than that."
"Good."
He smiled faintly.
"I've only got one body."
She appreciated the joke.
Lily sat close enough to see him through the open partition.
She held Ollie in her lap.
The needle went in.
Marcus looked away.
He had worked around high voltage without flinching but still disliked watching needles pierce skin.
Lily noticed.
"You're scared."
"I'm allowed."
"But you're doing it."
"That's usually how bravery works."
She thought about that.
Then hugged the stuffed elephant tighter.
Marcus donated one standard unit.
Nothing heroic happened to his body.
He did not become dangerously weak.
He became mildly light-headed when he stood too quickly afterward, so the staff made him sit back down and drink juice.
Lily opened his crackers before he could stop her.
"You need these."