The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)

Chapter 85

Thalia’s Pov

The anticipation was killing me; an hour had passed with no red signals. Not the sort that implied the

machine was killing him, but we were getting the kind that said he was getting drowsier by the hour.

Doctor Willson, on the other hand, attributed it to the fact that he was losing blood.

The hemoglobin level was above six, which was a favorable indicator as long as it continued that way.

We were safe from him becoming anemic or going into shock. We were also checking for any signs of

o*gan failure, but everything appeared to be fine at the time.

Brandon, on the other hand, had stopped speaking and was not responding to exchanges. The doctor

suggested we give him some time and let the equipment do its job. Nestor walked up to me and led me

to the kitchen, telling me that I had done my bit and that it was now up to Brandon to fight.

But my mind was crowded with the machine. We couldn’t analyze the filtration rate because it was too

early, we had no data and we were doing everything blindly. We didn’t know when to turn it off but

relied on guessing.

It was too early to assess the filtration and we had no idea when to turn it off but we estimated if the

Hemoglobin kept falling.

“You need to eat Thalia,” Nestor said and began preparing some food.

“What if he does not make it?” I asked.

“Do not say that,” he replied.

“No no, let’s start thinking outside the box, there should be plan B, we do not have plan B,” I said and

began panicking. Nestor stopped me and told me to breathe in. “Okay that’s a good idea, you can start

thinking about that without panicking,” he suggested and got me back to my seat.

He was right, panicking was not a solution, but my brain was all messed up and I couldn’t think. I sat on

the kitchen chair biting my nails. Nestor handed me some orange juice. “Please drink it all, remember

you have to look after the baby as well,” he reminded me. I nodded and began drinking it, my body felt

like it was being dragged.

I needed to clear my mind so while he was cooking I decided to go and take a shower. I always did my Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

best thinking in the shower.

I took my leave and told him I would return but first I checked on Brandon before going to shower. He

was still hanging on, so I took my things and went to shower. Under the cold splatters, I began

troubleshooting for other solutions.

The FRASER 2021i worked like a kidney dialysis machine. Just like it, it was not a permanent solution

especially since his cells were still going to keep replicating. If it worked it was only going to give him

time.

That was a luxury that he did not have but he needed a cure, the machine was providing some sort of

treatment but we had no idea of the duration or prognosis. But apart from something that filtered what

else could work? I kept thinking to myself.

I finished my shower, dressed up, and joined Dr. Willson.

“The Hb keeps dropping, I think we should remove the machine and study the cells,” he suggested as

soon as I walked into the room.

I looked at the Hb and it was seven, “Unplug it,” I seconded, anything below six was anemic and we did

not want to risk that.

He gave the orders and we removed the machine. They quickly took a sample and I waited in

anticipation. Brandon was unconscious, somehow it drained all of his energy. I noted that down, there

was a need to adjust that element.

But I was eager about the result and the doctor kept taking too long with his useless microscope. He

looked up at me and called me to take a look. I walked slowly to him and he gave me space to see the

difference myself. In one of the specimens, there were a lot of mutations while in the other there were a

few. “You did it destiny, what we have to do is find the duration,” he stated with a smile.

“But these cells can still kill him,” I replied. “No no I was expecting below thirty-five liter,” I added.

“Ms. Thalia, as we are filtering the old mutated cells, new ones are getting replicated in his body. As it

stands, it will be which process will be faster than the other but I will recommend you for this machine,”

he said and drew his hand for a handshake. I stared at it, p*ssed.

“Ms. Thalia, your machine works, at least be proud of that,” he added and put his hand away.

“How far with your cure, have you made any progress?” I asked.

He stared at me, he was definitely not expecting me to ask about the cure. “Brandon told me about

recalling your team and funding you to continue searching for a cure.”

He cleared his throat like he was embarrassed. “Oooh yes we are, but we are unable to culture the

cells in a lab environment, if you have noticed everything dies. That’s our major roadblock,” he replied.

I only rolled my eyes in anger and walked to the kitchen. Nestor was almost done, and the food smelled

delicious. “Lichens!” I yelled and took a seat. “For two years the fool can’t grow the cells in a laboratory

set up. He has all the money at his disposal,” I added. Nestor ignored my statement and handed me

the food. “Stop stressing, your monkeys were dying too that explained why he is having difficulty too.”

I looked up at my food in shame and began eating it, it did not taste as good as it was because my

mind was still thinking of plan B. The ratio of the mutated cells was too high for the machine to keep up.

Yes, it slowed down the mutation and was possibly going to prevent any clots but the body was going

to notice the change and adapt to the mutation. That was my worry, I did not want to be a party pooper.

I noted how everyone was smiling while I was the only grampy one, smearing my negative energy all

over my creation. But I had studied Brandon’s disease and was well aware of the ratios. We needed a

ratio of below thirty if the machine was going to work as a dialysis machine.

After another two hours, the doctor walked in and suggested we put him back to the machine. It was

stressing on his body but we needed to come up with the time interval. With a Hb of nine, we decided

to put him back to the machine while we closely monitored the mutation. We kept repeating the process

until the following morning.

Even though he was still unconscious there was some significant change in the mutation and he was

breathing on his own. That gave me a smile in the morning but being plugged on and off to a machine

every two hours was unbearable.

I decided to take my morning walk and Nestor decided to accompany me. We walked in silence while

my mind was still thinking of plan B. I should have thought of that while I was still making the

FRASER2021i but it was too late to cry over spilled milk.

“I have something that will cheer you up?” Nestor broke the silence. I heard him loud and clear but I

was not interested in anything.

“I sent the letter to Josh about his impotence, he probably knows that he is not the father of the baby

his wife is carrying,” he stated and expected a reply from me but I had long buried that obsession. Josh

and Jessica could kill themselves and I wouldn’t blink an eye. My main concern was Brandon and

finding plan B.

“Thalia, did you hear what I have just said?”

I stopped walking and turned “Yes I heard you loud and clear but I have important s*it to worry about

rather than those two idiots,” I replied, turned, and continued walking.

“I was only trying to lighten your mood, you thinking too much is not good for the baby,” he replied.

“Then come up with a productive topic.”

“Okay, did Brandon give you the name? Did he get to name the baby?” he asked.

I stopped and held my mouth, Brandon kept postponing naming the child and I became so preoccupied

with working on the machine that I forgot about the name.

“No, he did not,” I stated.

Nestor noted my worry and held my hands, “As soon as he opens his eyes tell him to name his child,

okay,?”

I quickly nodded my head, I gave Brandon a simple task but like always he was doing his own thing of

being too difficult. But he was going to name the baby whether he liked it or not. I was not going to

accept any excuses the minute he opened his eyes.