Chapter 497 Serious Injury
In the distance, the sound of sirens and ambulance wails grew louder, but George's vision was starting to blur. He felt life slipping away rapidly, yet he stubbornly refused to close his eyes until he was sure the paramedics had reached them.
"Save her, save her first." Those were the last words he managed to say before darkness consumed him.
Emma felt like she was floating in a warm void, George's voice faintly echoing in her ears. She wanted to grasp onto something, but she couldn't even move a finger.
'Why, why save me? Weren't we already over?'
This thought was her last conscious moment before sinking into the abyss.
——
Blinding white light.
That was Emma's first sensation upon regaining consciousness.
She frowned slightly and slowly opened her eyes, her blurry vision gradually focusing on the LED lights on the ceiling. The smell of disinfectant filled her nostrils, and the bed beneath her felt uncomfortably hard.
"Emma, you're awake?" A gentle female voice came from her right.
Emma turned her head with difficulty and saw a familiar face in a doctor's uniform, looking down at the monitor. The name tag on her chest read "Neurology Department Head, Charlotte Rose."
"Where am I?" Emma's throat felt like it had been scraped with sandpaper, her voice hoarse and almost unrecognizable.
"TeleHealth Hospital." Charlotte picked up a cup of water from the bedside table and carefully helped Emma take a few sips. "You've been unconscious for nearly twenty hours."
Memories flooded back. The tram, the explosion, George's bloodied face, and his words, "I can't watch you die."
"Where's George?" Emma grabbed Charlotte's wrist, knocking over the cup and spilling water on the white sheets. "How is he?"
Charlotte's expression turned complex. She gently freed her hand and placed the cup back on the table. "George's condition is more serious. The explosion caused severe impact injuries and extensive burns on his back. He's still in the ICU."
Emma felt a wave of dizziness and instinctively pressed her temples. "I need to see him."
"You need to rest now." Charlotte held Emma down as she tried to get up. "Your body tested positive for a foreign substance that disrupted your heart function. You almost died. If George hadn't saved you in time..."
"Substance?" Emma's pupils contracted. "What substance?"
Charlotte glanced at the door and lowered her voice. "A compound that interferes with the heart's conduction system, long banned in clinical use. It can cause cardiac syncope within hours, making it look like a natural death."
Emma's blood seemed to freeze. Someone wanted to kill her?
And in such a covert way, making it look like an accident?
"Who would do this?" Her voice trembled.
Charlotte quickly made a shushing gesture. "Emma, we can't talk about this here."
She pulled a card from her pocket and slipped it into Emma's hand. "This is my other contact. We'll discuss it after you're discharged."
Emma clutched the card tightly, her fingertips turning white from the pressure.
Charlotte's tense expression, tinged with fear, made Emma realize the gravity of the situation was far beyond her imagination.
"And," Charlotte leaned in closer, her voice barely audible, "don't trust anyone, not even the medical staff. Your case has been flagged, and someone will be monitoring your every move."
A cold sweat broke out on Emma's back. She suddenly remembered something. "Is my blood test report still in the hospital system?"
Charlotte nodded slightly. "I made a backup, but the original has been deleted. Be careful. Whoever did this isn't just anyone."
A name flashed through Emma's mind—Phoenix.
The woman who had gone missing.
Since their fallout, she hadn't heard from Phoenix in a while. Could Phoenix be causing trouble again?
If it were before, she might have suspected Anna, but Anna had already been executed. She couldn't come back from the dead. So, the only person with a grudge against her was likely Phoenix.
No, there were two more.
Jack and Scarlett!
They could also be a threat.
So, who was the real culprit?
"Charlotte, can I see George? Just for a moment," Emma pleaded.
Charlotte hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Ten minutes. Your body isn't strong enough for long visits."
With Charlotte's help, Emma dragged her weak body to the ICU.
Through the glass window, she saw George lying quietly on the bed, tubes connected to him, the monitor beeping steadily.
His face was almost ghostly pale, his thick eyelashes casting shadows under his eyes, his usually tight lips slightly parted, relying on a ventilator to breathe.
His upper body was wrapped in bandages, with blood seeping through in places.
Emma's chest tightened painfully. She had thought she hated George, hated his coldness, hated how he believed others' lies and distanced himself from her, hated his calm demeanor when he agreed to the divorce.
But now, seeing him on the brink of death for saving her, all her hatred turned into a bitter guilt.
If he was willing to risk his life, did his feelings for her really never exist?
"His burns are severe, and a piece of shrapnel nearly hit his spine," Charlotte explained softly. "The surgery removed the shrapnel, but he lost a lot of blood, causing temporary brain hypoxia. His coma might last a while."
Emma's hand pressed against the glass, as if she could touch George through it.
Memories flashed back—his arm bleeding from breaking the car window, his tense jawline as he carried her away from the explosion, his arms protecting her from the blast.
"Will he wake up?" Emma's voice was as light as a feather.
"There's no guarantee in medicine, but George is in good physical shape and has a strong will to live." Charlotte paused, then continued, "During surgery, his heart stopped once, but we revived him. He kept calling your name while unconscious."
The words felt like a dull knife stabbing Emma's heart. She bit her lip until she tasted blood.
"Can I go in? Just for a moment."
Charlotte checked her watch. "Five minutes. Don't touch any medical equipment."
Dressed in sterile clothing, Emma gently pushed open the ICU door. The smell of disinfectant was stronger, mixed with the bitterness of medication.
She carefully approached the bed, afraid her breathing might disturb George's fragile life signs.
Up close, his injuries were even more shocking. His exposed skin was covered in abrasions and burns, a scabbed wound on his left cheek likely from shrapnel.
Emma's hand trembled as she reached out, pulling back just before touching his fingers. She didn't dare touch him, afraid of causing him pain, even though he might not feel it now.
"Why did you save me?" she whispered, tears finally spilling over. "We were supposed to be over."
The heart monitor beeped steadily, George lying still as if asleep, his chest rising and falling slightly, proof that life still lingered.
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