“Sure you will.” He tossed a spare baby blanket across and Hana hid beneath it for the journey through Hamilton.
“Whose blood did I get?” She peered at the bruise in the crook of her right elbow. “What if they weren’t a nice person?
“Pretend it’s mine.” Logan negotiated a traffic jam and headed north.
“Is it?” Hana heard the hope in her voice and winced. Tears budded to the surface and she couldn’t seem to control them.
“It’s not Logan’s.” Tama’s dark, glossy head shook from side to side in the passenger seat.
Logan darted a sideways glance at him. “Shut up, mate,” he warned.
Tama finished his ill-advised thought. “Haemophiliacs can’t donate.”
“Oh.” Hana gulped and the first wave of tears cascaded over her lower lids. “Oh, no.”
Logan eyed her through the rear-view mirror. “Let’s pr
