Chapter 572 Forgiveness
Phoenix raised her gun, a twisted smile on her face. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you first, then we'll go after Emma and that little brat!"
George quickly shielded Seraphine behind him, his eyes darting around for an escape route. But the room's only exit was blocked by two crazed women.
In that critical moment, a young yet determined voice suddenly rang out:
"Don't hurt my daddy!"
Seraphine had somehow picked up another gun from the floor, her small hands struggling to hold it up, the barrel wavering between Phoenix and Wanda. Though the gun was too heavy for her, Seraphine bit her lip, her eyes unusually resolute.
"Put the gun down!" Seraphine's voice trembled, but her grip on the gun was steady. "Or I'll shoot!"
Wanda and Phoenix were stunned. They hadn't expected this seemingly fragile Seraphine to show such courage.
"Little brat," Phoenix sneered, slowly moving her gun's aim. "You think a toy gun can scare me..."
A gunshot exploded in the enclosed VIP room, making everyone's ears ring. The bullet grazed Phoenix's cheek, leaving a bloody streak on her pale skin. She stared in shock, unable to believe that this five-year-old Seraphine had actually fired.
"Seraphine!" George, despite the pain in his back, pulled Seraphine behind him. The movement aggravated his wound, and blood soaked through the bandage, dripping down his spine and forming a shocking trail on the floor.
Sirens blared closer, accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps. The VIP room door was violently kicked open, and heavily armed SWAT officers poured in.
"Don't move! Drop your weapons!"
A flash of malice crossed Phoenix's eyes. She dragged her injured leg, lunging towards the nearest window. Just as she was about to leap out—
Another gunshot rang out. Phoenix screamed, her right leg bursting into a spray of blood, and she crashed heavily onto the floor. At the door, Michael stood with a smoking gun, his gaze as cold as Arctic ice.
"None of you are getting away," he said, his voice low but chilling the room's temperature.
Michael quickly approached Seraphine, crouching to check if she was hurt. Her small hands were still shaking, but upon seeing her familiar "daddy," tears immediately streamed down her face.
"Daddy! Where's mommy? I want mommy!" Seraphine buried her face in Michael's chest, smearing his expensive suit with bloodstains.
The words hit George like a sledgehammer. His pupils contracted, and images of Emma's pale face and stoic expression flashed through his mind.
"Emma." George struggled to stand but staggered from blood loss. He leaned against the wall, his voice hoarse and desperate. "She's still in the car. Since the accident, she's been..."
Michael's face turned ashen. He scooped up Seraphine and shouted at the arriving paramedics, "Save the child first!" Then he turned to George, "Where's the car?"
In the parking lot, the wrecked sports car stood alone, its doors twisted out of shape. Through the cracked windows, Emma could be seen slumped in the passenger seat, her long hair covering most of her face.
"Emma!" George stumbled to the car, his fingers trembling as he opened the door. The heavy scent of blood hit him, and he saw Emma's right leg twisted unnaturally, the wound at her knee already a dark red clot. Worse, a shard of glass had pierced her abdomen, soaking the seat with blood.
"How did it get this bad?" George's voice cracked. He remembered Emma's casual "I'm fine" after the crash, and his heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand.
He reached to lift Emma but couldn't muster the strength due to his back injury. After two failed attempts, he only managed to aggravate his own wound, coughing up blood onto Emma's white dress.
"Let me." Michael handed Seraphine to a nurse and stepped forward. He gently supported Emma's head and neck, his movements incredibly tender. "You can't even take care of yourself, and you want to save others?"
George knelt by the car, watching Michael carry Emma to the ambulance. His vision blurred, but he stubbornly refused to collapse. Blood continued to seep from his back, pooling on the ground.
"Uncle George," Seraphine, held by a nurse, cried out, her face streaked with tears. She reached out, trying to grasp something. "You're bleeding, a lot."
George tried to smile at Seraphine but only managed a pained expression. His gaze remained fixed on Emma until the ambulance doors closed.
"Sir! You need immediate medical attention!" The paramedics tried to help George up, but he pushed them away.
"I'll go with her," George insisted, staggering towards the ambulance. He took two steps before his knees buckled, and he fell heavily to the ground.
The world spun around him, and all he could hear was Seraphine's crying and the ambulance's siren. In the last moment before darkness overtook him, George's fingers still reached stubbornly towards where Emma had gone.
The surgery lights at TeleHealth Hospital were bright as day. In the hallway, Seraphine curled up in Michael's arms, her eyes swollen and red like peaches.
"Daddy, is mommy going to die?" Seraphine's voice was barely a whisper, yet it cut into Michael's heart like a knife.
Michael tightened his embrace, his chin gently brushing Seraphine's hair. "No, mommy is the strongest. She wouldn't leave Seraphine."
His gaze fell on the surgery room across the hall, where George was being operated on. Even in her unconscious state, Emma kept calling out "George."
"Daddy, your hand is so cold." Seraphine wrapped her small hands around Michael's clenched fist, her sweet childlike voice soothing. "I'll warm it for you."
Michael looked down at the innocent Seraphine in his arms, the shadows in his eyes slightly lifting. He gently stroked her soft hair, while internally plotting how to make the person in the opposite surgery room disappear forever.
"Mr. Russell." A deep voice suddenly sounded behind him.
Michael slowly turned around.
Ryan had appeared silently in the hallway, his gaze lingering meaningfully on Michael's face. "You should rest. I'll keep watch here."
Michael understood immediately—George was guarding against him.
Seraphine sensed the tension in the air. She cupped Michael's face with her small hands. "Daddy, don't be sad. Uncle George will get better." She blinked her tear-filled eyes. "Just like mommy said, good people get good things."
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