That same week, she went to the hospital.
“Blood type?” the nurse asked.
“AB negative.”
The nurse raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“That’s extremely rare.”
María didn’t understand the importance of that sentence.
She simply sat on the bed and extended her arm.
The needle entered slowly.
The blood began filling the bag.
María closed her eyes.
And for the first time since her son’s death, she felt something close to peace.
After that first donation, the hospital started calling her more and more.
“Mrs. María, we need your blood type.”
“Mrs. María, there’s an urgent patient.”
“Mrs. María, could you come tomorrow?”
Over time, María became a special donor.
Always compatible.
Always needed.
One doctor even told her once:
“Your blood is like gold.”
María smiled.
But she felt a chill she couldn’t explain.
After each donation, weeks later, she would receive a message from the hospital:
“The transfusion was successful.”
They never mentioned the patient’s name.
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